


I'll be home for Christmas

by sg_fic



Category: Australia (2008), The Notebook (2004), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M, World War II, love in times of war, no beta we die like men, scogan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28149480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_fic/pseuds/sg_fic
Summary: Lon never got to say 'I love you' before they were forced to go their separate ways to opposite ends of the world, and now their relationship is lost in the fog of war.
Relationships: Drover (Australia)/Lon Hammond Jr., Logan (X-Men)/Scott Summers
Comments: 29
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this sequel only took me 12(!) years, so if you need to freshen up your memory Australia can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4482704/chapters/10190720).

**Seabrook Island, October 12th, 1942**

_Just the electricity bill, not Uncle Sam._

Noah crushed the empty envelope in his fist and looked up at the house that he restored with the last of his parents’ money, in the hopes Allie would come back to him.

He was hanging a tire swing from an old apple tree that was gnarled, but still green with life when the postman arrived carrying a single, large envelope... which turned out to be a false alarm. 

A warm autumn breeze ruffled Noah’s hair and swirled the tree's dead leaves as he stood there, lost in thoughts... The old tree must have been planted before he was born. Before the war began—before many wars have begun...

He was glad that his share of the fighting was over and done with; he couldn’t imagine being away from his pregnant wife right then.

And so, instead of being stationed in the bloody battlefields of Europe dreading the Germans, Noah got to stay in his patch of heaven, dreading the postman.

Thankfully passersby were rare, as Noah was the first to build a year-round home on this side of the lake.

The last couple of years were so eventful—that all he wanted was some peace and quiet, both figuratively and literally.

Just as long as he doesn't get drafted…

At long last, he bent down to gather his tools, then made his way to the boathouse.

***** *** *****

Allie stood in the freshly painted nursery with the silliest grin spread across her face.

She was embarrassed to admit that she's been standing there for over thirty minutes, but she could always blame her pregnancy brain.

She was also embarrassed to admit that she never finish unpacking—and they've been married for over two years now... And so she came up to the newly refurbished nursery, which was earlier used as a storage room, to gather what was left of her belongings.

She brought empty garbage bags with her, fully intended on sorting out the last of her suitcases and throwing away what she didn’t need, which was probably everything there—but as soon as she drew the curtains overlooking the yard she saw her shirtless husband climbing a ladder, his tool belt slung over his shoulder and his body glistening with sweat—and time seemed to have stopped.

How amazing life was! Such a simple thing, really; a man. Her man. The man she was destined to be with and all had fallen into place. For the first time in her life, she was filled with such happiness, such bliss... and so much peace.  
  
Still smiling, she moved away from the window. Noah was long gone, and she just knew that he was in the boathouse, building a baby crib as he promised. The same way he promised he’d buy this house for her on that warm night they wandered in for some privacy, two teenagers in the midst of a summer love affair. The night her hysterical parents called the police… she giggled whilst opening the first suitcase.

Oh, God! Why did she bother packing such old rags? She reached for the outdated brown sweater that was neatly folded on top.

“Oomph!” Surprised at the weight of the garment, she started giggling again at her own wide-eyed expression that reflected in the long mirror of the closet door. Pregnancy brain indeed.

She carefully picked up the square object that was wrapped with her sweater—it was easy to gather it was a picture frame. From their wedding, it must have been. She knew just the place to hang it, too. Probably the picture of her with her parents, she’s been wondering where—  
—she unwrapped it, then froze.

She was laughing in the picture. Dancing. And next to her, happy, careless…

[](https://imgbb.com/)

“Oh, Lon.”

Her poor Lon.

For a long minute, she just sat there, sadly, quietly… When she looked up from the picture and saw her reflection in the mirror, her cheeks were wet with tears. And yeah, she knew those were hormones, but also…

She got off easy.

Her dad wasn’t happy, but her mom… her mother confessed that she sympathized with Allie as her own parents, Allie’s grandparents, disapproved of her first love when she was young. Later that year she managed to convince Allie’s dad to give them his blessing.

But Lon… Lon got the short stick. His parents were furious and completely irrational. To that day they refused to carry out business with Allie’s family. And as for Lon…

She heard that they sent him away; that they've asked a friend of theirs who’s a general to take Lon off their hands. A week later Lon was drafted again—in spite of the injury he sustained during his service. She heard so many contradicting rumors since… She heard that Lon was in Africa, then she heard he was in France… She even heard that he was sent to Australia at some point, and so she didn’t know what to believe anymore… At any rate, the army was a terrible place to be in right then. Horrible news kept on coming from Europe, and she would often stay up at night praying to God that her Noah wouldn’t get drafted any time soon. He’d done enough for his country. He had a son on the way.

And as for Lon… he must have been the nicest guy that she had ever met. A true gentleman, kind, and caring. He did not deserve this; any of this—the heart-ache, the humiliation, the banishment... Not at all.

And she closed her eyes in a silent prayer that no matter where Lon had been right then—he was safe and loved, and that God was with him.


	2. The Italian peninsula

****

**The Italian peninsula, October 29th, 1942**  
  
 _‘We have Sicily!’_ The rumor spread fast through the trenches, as well as a rumor that it was already snowing in Rome and Monte Cassino.

The American and British soldiers were more concerned about the possibility of snow than delighted by the supposed victory. Sure, the cold would keep the lice at bay, when it was hot they started to bite like the devil, but with winter approaching all had feared the heavily defended German Winter Line, all too aware that the snow would slow their progression and hold a great risk to their lives.

They invaded Italy 10,000 miles south-east to Naples and were supposed to draw enemy forces south so that troopers could land behind the Winter Line and strike at the German rear.  
  
The first part of their plan was working ‘O.K’, as the young soldiers used to say. They drew enemy forces alright—their squad was being attacked on a daily basis.

The last attack was just before sunset that day, and it had been the worse one yet;

Two tired men were on patrol by the trench, while their hearts and minds were in the States with their families. The evening was quiet, too quiet in hindsight, when all of a sudden blinding white flares flew all around them before fizzling out like rockets, then exploding and lighting up every man, tree, and bush within half a mile.

They fell to the ground, shouting in agony, but no one could hear them over the loud explosions. The patrol commanding officer had lost sight of his sergeant as the flames grew higher. He tried rolling on the ground to put out the flames, but it hurt too much—and he realized the ground was on fire too. They started shooting at them then, the savages, making it impossible to send backup.

No one would come for them…  
  
His last thought hurt him more than any physical pain—he’d never see his three sons again…

…but just then someone threw a wet blanket over him, and momentarily he felt pure bliss. He was yanked by his arms, back towards the trench and the pain was back, overwhelming him into unconsciousness, but not before he made out his savior’s young, terrified face.

It was the kid from Oklahoma, the one with the hat.

***** *** *****

**The Northern Territory, October 30th, 1942**  
  
The rising billows of black smoke looked nothing like the bushfires that normally occurred in the hot, dry Australian weather.  
  
They were darker, denser.

The bushfires cleared the dead vegetation, created grasslands, and helped local flora reproduce.

The Japanese fire turned life into scorched earth.  
  
Darwin was burning.

Had burnt for months on end, a fire only the winter could put out… …and the wet wasn’t due in yonks.

***** *** *****

**The Italian peninsula, October 30th, 1942**

“That was a brave thing you did, Sir.”

“It’s—” _‘Lon’_ the young sergeant nearly corrected for the hundredth time, but stopped mid-sentence.

As luck would have it, once he arrived in Italy he was reunited with Thomas Hart, his former soldier when deployed down under. The redhead, whose copper hair seemed to glow in the afternoon sun, had insisted on calling Lon ‘Sir’, even though they now held the same position, if not rank.

“Thank you,” He said instead, and took the offered silvery can from the redhead. It read _‘U.S ARMY FIELD RATION C’_ and did nothing for Lon’s appetite. He already knew that inside he’d find some coffee, three cubes of sugar, four pieces of hard candy, and five crackers. Lunch.

He always gave the sweets to Thomas, who collected them until he had enough to swap for cigarettes. The exchange rates were darn high; 16 pieces of candy for a single cigarette—which meant one of them got to smoke every three days.

To think he once mourned having to switch to Camel; nowadays Lon was happy just to get a cig that wasn’t broken or wet.

Taking a seat by Thomas, he dug a small key out of his pocket and began winding it to tear away the can’s metal strip.

He was done and about to pocket his key when Thomas suddenly exclaimed “Sir! Your hat!”

Lon looked over his shoulder, to where the hat always rested with its string around Lon’s neck; two unmistakable bullet holes punctured his precious Australian Akubra hat, dreadfully close to his neck.

“Sir? Are you alright? Are you going to be sick?”

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

***** *** *****

Their squad was on the move. They waited until darkness fell to head north, closer to the enemy lines, seeking retribution for the previous night. It was pointless, they all knew; a distraction, a game to keep the Italian army busy at the front while special forces attack the Germans at the rear. They were cannon fodders, nothing more.

If it further despaired the soldiers, they didn’t let it show.

If Lon regretted skipping lunch that day, he didn’t let it show either. He'd lost his appetite earlier, and now he was almost dizzy with hunger, yet he had one thought and one thought alone; the same thought that made him throw himself into the midst of a crossfire last night... ...He needed to get discharged.

He said ‘four months’ and it’d been nearly a year.

***** *** *****

The valley was endless and full of mist. He was hungry and cold, but worse of all; lost. Stopping to catch his breath, Lon suddenly heard a twig snap and quickly turned, certain he was done for— He had to rub his eyes in disbelief.

It didn’t make sense, and yet there he was as clear as daylight, the brown eyes just as alert and full of mischief as he remembered.

_“…Nullah?”_

“Hello Mister Lon!”

“What are you doing here?” It wasn’t mist. The air was thick with smoke. It stank of war.

“Bad fog. Very dry. Today I down the billabong, to catch 'em fish using magic song, but it was dry. All is dry now, only bad fog.”

“How is everyone? Are they okay?”

“They need the wet.”

“But are they well? Where are they?”

“Missus Boss is over there,” Nullah pointed and Lon could barely make out Lady Sarah Ashley’s slender body through the dense smoke. She was very far, indeed.

“And Eddy? And the drover?”

Nullah only looked at him with big, sad eyes.

“Nullah, please! Are they well??”

“We need the wet Mister Lon. You come back, you bring the wet.”

“Nullah wait!”

“Too dry Mister Lon, and you need to go,”

And Lon’s shoulder was shaken harshly, waking him to a pale Italian dawn that stank of death.

He was back in hell.

***** *** *****

**The Italian peninsula, October 31st, 1942**

“Still not talking, are you?”

Lon looked up and sighed.

“Have some lunch at least?”

He appreciated the gesture, but he truly needed to be alone. The dream only served to worsen his sense of foreboding; a bad feeling that began building in the pit of his stomach the day he left Australia, and was made worse once his four months were over and done with. His commanding officers laughed in his face when he reminded them that his military discharge was due.

“It’s the hat, isn’t it?”

Thomas asked, startling Lon mid-rumination and making him look up, blue eyes wild and stormy, before he dropped his gaze back to the ground, frustrated.

All of the other soldiers assumed that his hat was some sort of safety blanket or a talisman, and it boiled his blood.

He couldn’t tell them the truth, obviously, and having to listen to the other soldiers longingly talking about their girlfriends and wives while he had to pretend that he was single was painfully frustrating.

Ignoring the redhead, he ran his fingers in slow circles around the rim of the bullet holes, lost in thought...

He saw so many people die since he arrived to Europe, innocent and young, old and brave, and it always broke his heart—tore his very soul apart... But this was different... seeing his hat punctured by bullets hurt in ways he couldn't explain, stole the very breath from his lungs…

How will he return it to Benjamin now?

And the sudden, horrible fear that this was a bad omen and he'll never return the hat to his proprietor, that he'll never see the drover again…

And the sadness… the goddamned heart wrenching, impossible sadness...

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. His entire body burnt with the need to do something, anything… but he couldn’t do a damn thing. It made him feel like he could cry with frustration.

It was only the hope, however slim, that he will somehow survive the war and make his way back to Darwin, where Benjamin would be waiting for him like he promised, in spite of all of the time that had passed, that had kept him going.

“There’s a flight heading Down Under on Monday.” Lon had forgotten that Thomas still stood there until he spoke.

_Down Under?_

Lon's mouth ran dry.

He needed to think fast, but his traitorous body froze in terror.

As soon as he somewhat composed himself he slowly looked up.

A small smile played on Thomas’s freckled face. A chilly autumn breeze played with his red hair. He was about to say something else, but fell silent as a patrol force drew near.

“Hey! Soldiers! You should be back in the trench!”

“Just a ciggy break,” Thomas flashed them a bright smile.

“Then make it short!”

“Sir, yes Sir!”

And they let them be.

 _Did he know? Did they all know? Was he in trouble? Will he get sent to prison and never make it Down Under?_ Lon's mind raced in the time it took the patrol to get out of sight; his very knees felt weak while they waited.

 _…Well?_ He gave Thomas a penetrating look.

"..."

He had a feeling that Thomas was letting it drag on purpose, that he enjoyed watching him sweat. His next words confirmed as much.

“I was jealous at first, I’m not going to lie to you, Sir.”

 _“Jealous…”_ Lon echoed numbly, trying to understand if he was being blackmailed, and what was it Thomas knew, exactly.

“Yeah. In a childish kind of way. The 'I saw him first' kind of way, you know?”

“Mm.” Lon heard himself say in some far off land while trying to think if there was any possible proof, other than the hat that is—which was easy enough to deny.

“Yeah, you know? That first morning? When he asked me to help stock mulch?”

And in spite of his panic, Lon felt a sharp pang of longing as he could almost see the ranch and smell the morning dew. He didn’t appreciate his good fortune at the time… and now it was gone.

“I even went for it one night. Kissed him when we were all alone in the tool shed.”

“You... what?” Jealousy sharpened Lon’s gaze, his blue eyes saying it all—but it was stronger than him right then. Ben's tool shed? The one in which the drover stood half-naked and wet, and tried (in hindsight) to seduce him? _Thomas and Ben kissed?!_

“Yeah, well. He was very chivalrous when turning me down. That’s when I started noticing the way he was looking at you. That made me really jealous, but you were hitting on Maggie and, well…” Thomas’s face twisted in pain. Cole Dorsey was killed in France earlier that year, and they couldn’t even contact Maggie to let her know. “Well, I just thought you weren’t into this kind of… _things.”_ Thomas sighed. There was a genuine pain in his eyes as he went on. “But then I saw you with his hat... It hurt like hell, and I hated your guts on that journey to England—I was half hoping your ejector seat would go off…” he laughed quietly and met Lon’s wide, stormy eyes, “But that’s water under the bridge now… and let me tell you, no one was happier to see you arriving in Italy in one piece than me.”

Lon closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear any of this… but he also needed to talk about what happened down under with every fiber of his being. _You come back, you bring the wet._ Nullah’s voice in his head made his lips move before he knew it.

“That flight... Who gets to go?” And admitting Thomas was right was risking it all, but so was staying in Europe…

“Is he waiting for you? Will you go back to the homestead?”

Thomas asked instead, and Lon’s doubts deepened. Should he really trust a man who had just admitted hating his guts? But he'd already said too much… and waiting in Italy was leading him nowhere. At this rate, he’d stay in Europe until the cows come home.

 _‘Shorthorns’_ he heard Benjamin's voice correcting in his head, and tears began prickling his eyes. _Ben…_

“They deserted the homestead. Drove the cattle to Darwin.” Lon said, having made up his mind. He didn’t expect such an immediate turn for the worst;

“Darwin?! Oh man! Oh shit!” Thomas exclaimed, wide-eyed and pale, and Italy began blurring around the edges.

“Why?! What’s wrong with Darwin?!” Lon demanded, his voice betraying him, the color leaving his face. The bad omen—the goddamned bad omen!

“Haven’t you heard?” Thomas asked, pity and sympathy filling his green eyes, and Lon’s world started crumbling as he sank to his knees on the ground.

***** *** *****

The scent of honeysuckles filled the air, as did that of manure, the mixture fast becoming Lon’s favorite smell in the whole wide world. All around him crickets chirred and sandflies flocked; the night hummed with heat.

They sat by the bog, the place where they first met. The big drove was about to commence and they were about to part for two whole weeks, but right then the night was all theirs.

They were holding hands, the touch surprising, then filling Lon's heart with warmth. He didn’t expect the drover to be interested in such gestures. He started suspecting that the man was far more romantic than his ragged demeanor suggested.

“What’s on your mind, Oklahoma?” The feral man broke the silence.

“Don’t know. That life is funny I guess. By now I was supposed to have higher education, a well-paying job, my own place, a wife…”

“But you’re here.”

“But I’m here.” Lon said and squeezed Benjamin’s hand.

The drover was chowing his tobacco quietly. When he started talking again Lon was surprised that he was still thinking about what he earlier said, 

“Life’s not funny, people are. They like to own things. You know, land, houses, degrees, other people. Makes them feel secure. But all that can be taken away, and in the end, the only thing you really own is your story. I think you should just try to live a good one.”

Lon nodded, touched, _'I love you'_ riding the tip of his tongue, but Ben looked too perfect right then and he was terrified of ruining the moment, he remembered as much...

He wanted to say it now, but the stench of smoke was mixing with the sweet smell of the homestead.

 _No, no, no…_ Lon didn’t want to wake up. The memory had felt so real; like if he’d bring his lips to Ben’s the way that he did that night down under, he would taste his chewing tobacco—spicy and sweet. He wanted to dream forever, leave the hellish reality behind—

But it was too late. His eyes fluttered open and he was back in Italy, back in reality, overwhelmed by heartache, tears clamping his throat.

Darwin was attacked. Destroyed. Burnt whole.

It was burning still, in a massive fire that no one seemed able to put out.

Tears were rolling down his cheeks before he knew it.

The thought of Ben’s body, lying there amidst the burning rubbles and chaos…

Weeping soundlessly, he cursed God for waking him up from a rarely sweet dream, for sending him to Europe, for destroying Darwin… for making human existence such agonizing pain.

He cried until reveille.

He then wiped his tears and went over the plan one last time in his head.

***** *** *****

“Come in.”

“Sir!”

“At ease, Sergeant. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, Sir,”

“My God—you look like hell!”

“Um, yes Sir. I wanted to talk to you about flight sierra golf one, Sir.”

“The one heading down under to aid with the fires? What about it?”

“I want to escort it.”

“You want what now?”

“Escort it, Sir.”

“I heard you, sergeant Hammond, I’m not deaf. It’s departing from England in 48 hours, I’m sure they have soldiers deployed in London who can escort it just fine.”

“I know Sir. It’s just… It’s the Dent business Sir.”

“And a messy business it was. Second-grade burns from head to toe. Brave thing you did for him, but you don’t get to claim prizes here, that’s not how war works.”

“It’s not like that at all, Sir.”

“Oh yeah? What's it like, then?”

“It’s… it’s the smell Sir, sometimes... I'm digging a trench, Right? Minding my own business, when all of a sudden I... I can smell it… him. The burnt hair and nails… makes me want to be sick… sometimes I see him too, like a flashback, or... I don't know. I can’t see the ground, I can’t see the sky… only Major Dent screaming, no eyebrows and the pain in his eyes… One time I was holding a gun and I couldn't see what I was aiming at when the visions started.”

“Oh, shit.”

“And I don’t want to go to the head-doctor for relocation, I want to stay with my unit. I just thought… the round trip is four days long, enough time to clear my head... And my sister is down there, on Christian aid. She said she’ll come to the airport to say hello. She’ll bring my nephew with her—he’s three months old... This can be good, help get my head straight..."

"And how will you get to England exactly?"

"We just got our supply. I could join the crew on the flight heading back to RAF Gatwick this evening. Don’t suppose they’ll mind having another man on board?”

“Goddamnit, Sergeant! What the hell am I supposed to say to that?!"

"I'm sorry Sir. I wish I didn't feel this way, but the man burnt like a Christmas roast, his very face—"

"—That's enough sergeant! I’ll speak to headquarters, see what they say. Just don’t bring up the goddamned head-doctor ever again, give the other soldiers crazy ideas.”

“Yes Sir! Thank you, Sir!”

“Anything else?”

“That would be all, Sir.”

“Okay then. Off you go.”

“Yes, Sir.”

_“…spoilt kid. I’d like to see him mentioning a head-doctor in front of his old man, that's what I’d like to see!”_

***** *** *****

“I’m telling you! Enderson woke up thinking a stray cat was snuggling down under the blanket alongside him and found a rat this big—”

“Have you seen it?”

“I have!”

“Me too, like a small, black dog!”

“I don’t want to know what they’re feeding off!”

“I do! Maybe we could get some!”

All of the soldiers laughed. Thomas just smiled, preoccupied. His mind was a million miles away, on a warm December night down under earlier that year.

They weren’t allowed to leave the ranch. They were to _'think of it as their army base'_ if to quote that idiot lieutenant John. It was their first night there, however, and the lovely ranch had felt nothing like a base. They arrived in the midst of a party. Long tables garnished with mouthwatering food, colorful paper lanterns hanging from the plentiful trees which offered lush, juicy peaches and apples, and beautiful people singing and dancing. _Heaven._ He was in heaven. 

They had a pointless tour of the premises, and once it was over their brooding commander had disappeared, probably in search of a quiet place to mope. Just as well. The three of them headed straight to the garden. They ate and laughed and smoked and danced and by the end of the night it was just Cole, a gorgeous local girl Cole was working his magic on named Maggie, and himself.

Maggie wanted to go out. Said there’s a waterhole not far from the ranch which was perfectly isolated. She offered a nightly dip and judging by the look on his face, it was obvious that she could have offered Cole a one-way trip to the moon and he’d happily oblige—so long as she was there with him.

They swam in their underwear, a little intoxicated, laughing so loudly that Thomas was amazed they weren’t caught. Even though it was obvious Maggie was Cole’s, she flirted with them both, and Thomas didn’t mind. None of the men in the ranch caught his eye, and flirting with Cole's girl was probably as exciting as it was ever going to get down under.

The sound of a faraway thunder made them laugh, but a bolt of sudden bright lightning made them quickly get out of the water. When it began hammering down they ran, clothes in their hands, half laughing half screaming, back to the ranch.  
Only to find it locked.

Maggie was still giggling, careless, as they stood outside the fence. She intended to spend the night at the ranch, which meant that she was screwed, too, but it wasn’t half as bad as what was in store for the two soldiers should they get caught. Thomas and Cole exchanged worried glances above Maggie’s head, not wanting to admit out loud that they were afraid.

“Now what?” Cole whispered.

“Fuck man. I don’t know. Try and find the sergeant? He should be in the barn.”

“Oh yes! I should have thought of that!” Maggie laughed, and the two soldiers turned around and saw she was talking to someone on the other end of the fence.  
Thomas was dripping water by then, drenched from head to toe, but he remembered his mouth running dry;

On the other side of the fence stood the most attractive man he had ever laid eyes on... a pair of brilliant hazel eyes met Thomas’ green ones, and he found that he couldn’t look away.

A drop-dead gorgeous Australian cowboy stood before him, and what's more important—he was into men, too. It was as obvious as the noonday sun. A straight man would have looked away, but the cowboy was checking him out. The rain made his clothes cling to his well-built body, and oh, wow…

“Eddie got the key to the gates, but Benjamin said we could climb the old trough. He will help us on the other side!” Maggie said thrilled, drunk.

She then led them to a rusty, old trough that was long out of use, but now full to the brim due to the heavy rain. 

Maggie was the first one to climb, Cole standing close and keeping her skirt from catching in the fence. Once she got over the fence and was on the other side, the cowboy took firm hold of her waist and lowered her to the ground. The gesture was measured and careful, and, to him, insanely erotic. How Thomas wanted those strong arms around his own waist. A sparkle of hope lit in his heart. He wanted the man right there and then. And why not? Maybe he will. Maybe even tonight.

Cole was up next. The trough squeaked under Cole’s feet and for a moment Thomas thought it might give out, but it held. The cowboy offered Cole a hand, but too proud to take it in front of his girl, Cole jumped to the ground—which led to a rather obvious limp the following day.  
It was Thomas’ turn. The trough which was full of dark, dirty water was rather off-putting up close, but there was no other way—and he’d be damned if he chickened out in front of the cowboy… Benjamin. What a gorgeous name.

He climbed over the fence and Benjamin offered him a helping hand.

 _Don’t mind if I do,_ Thomas took the offered hand, which was big, and hot to the touch in spite of the rain, and jump down. The strong grip broke his fall, but even with both feet on the ground, Thomas didn’t let go. 

Benjamin looked at him carefully, quizzically, but he didn’t punch him in the face. He was into men alright.

Worrying he'd come across as easy, Thomas let go, but later that night, in the shed he shared with his comrades he fell asleep with a huge smile gracing his face.

Little did he know that it would never come to be.

He signed.

Why Lon of all people? Never mind that he struck Thomas as boringly and painfully straight, one of those southern guys who swore by the bible and called it a sin, but he was also so…

_Depressed._

Good looking as he might have been underneath that constant frown, Thomas just couldn’t understand why Benjamin wanted to fuck someone who was always on the verge of tears. He must have thought that he could fix him. It was the only explanation Thomas could come up with, and he hated Lon with all his heart during their last two weeks down under—when he suspected that the two men were having an affair. The hat confirmed his fears, and on their flight to England, Thomas would be lying if he said that he didn't shed tears.

And yet, he told Lon the truth when he said that he was happy to see him again. He was just happy to see a familiar face. And as it turned out, Lon was quite brave when times called for it. He was still broody, but at least now Thomas knew why.

God knew that Benjamin was worth brooding over.

His lips still tingled in memory of that single, brief kiss...

...which was why it took him over two weeks to tell Lon about flight sierra golf one.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was still angry. A part of him still believed that if it weren’t for Lon he’d be with the drover right now (drover, not cowboy as he soon learned).

That, and also… he wouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave. If Benjamin was his, he never would have gotten on that flight to Europe, no matter what. But that’s southern boys for ya. The bible and the country and honor and shit.

In the end, he wasn’t doing it for Lon. Nice guy that the sergeant was, Thomas didn’t care much about his future.

…But if Benjamin was as heartbroken as Lon seemed to be… That Thomas couldn’t stand. He was still in love with the drover. Possibly always will be, and he wanted Ben to be happy. If the blue-eyed sergeant made him happy… well…

And he left the crowd and went looking for Lon.

***** *** *****

The sergeant was packing, and he quickly hid his backpack when Thomas’s shadow fell on him.

“Just me,” Thomas said, knowing it would be small comfort. Heck, he wouldn’t trust himself either if he was in Lon’s shoes.

Still, Lon only hesitated for a brief moment before he picked up his backpack and continued packing. His bag was full of canteens. He must have somehow snuck into the water purification unit. He also packed a pair of jeans and a civilian shirt—the telltale proof that he was running away.

“Here,”

Lon offered Thomas two food rations that wouldn’t fit in his bag. The redhead suspected that it was an attempt to buy his silence, but he indulged Lon and took the offered food. What he told people once the sergeant was gone was none of Lon's business.

“You know that you won’t be able to go back home? That you will be sent to prison if they catch you entering the States? A Renegade?”

“Keep it down!” Lon looked around nervously. When he saw that the coast was clear he met Thomas’ eyes “Yeah. I know.”

“If something happened to him in Darwin you’ll be stuck down under, all alone…”

“My parents..." Lon started then stopped. "I already am alone. I got nothing to lose.” He zipped his backpack and hid it under the blankets, then stood up and offered Thomas his hand,

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Thomas took the offered hand, "...and good luck finding him." he said and he meant it. If something happened to Ben... he didn't want to go there. Instead, he turned his back on the sergeant and exit the tent, a little relieved that he would never have to see the beautiful man from Oklahoma ever again, and a little sad to lose the only person that he knew in Italy.

***** *** *****

The C-43 Skytrooper was already waiting for them—Lon barely had time for one last smoke, and so he reached into his pocket.

The cigarette was wanky but whole; a goodbye present from Thomas. He lit it and was reminded of the last time someone gave him cigarettes as a farewell gift.

He missed old-man Eddie Tallara terribly. Was he in Darwin when bombs began falling from the sky? He had to bite his lips to keep from sighing. Instead, he took a long drag off his cigarette.

“All aboard!” The lieutenant who was in charge commanded and Lon crushed the eroded butt and picked up his bag.

 _So long Europe..._ he climbed the steps, hoping that he didn't look as nervous as he felt.

***** *** *****

An airplane cast its shadow on the ground and Thomas looked up; there was no mistaking the C-43 Skytrooper that was taking Lon out of his life and back to Ben's. If Benjamin survived, that is... and if Lon could find him.

Lon's chances were slim, he knew. Even if Ben survived the attack on Darwin—there was no telling where he fled to... was it terrible that the thought was comforting him? Lon, stuck down under all by himself with no access to his parent's wealth? And the gorgeous drover staying single?  
He wasn't a bad person! He was simply a man in love...

He promised himself that after Lon would leave he'd stop thinking about Australia, finally allow himself to forget, but now his mind was racing, uncontrollably.

***** *** *****

It was late afternoon, the sunshine burned and dust stuck to Thomas's clothes and skin.

He was sitting on a large stump of a baobab tree, watching the sunset over the now static windmill of the homestead.

His uniform and boots were blood-stained, and the day's events kept on playing in his head like a broken record.

 _“What happened?!”_ Benjamin demanded, appalled. It was the first time that Thomas had seen the drover lose his cool and it scared him.

 _“A stampede.”_ He replied numbly, watching the drover lean into the jeep.

 _“Easy, Oklahoma,”_ Benjamin said as he carefully lifted Thomas's semi-conscious commander and carried him in his strong arms to where his droving jacket was spread on the ground.

 _'Oklahoma?'_ Thomas blinked, annoyed. How come Benjamin knew that Lon was from Tulsa, and why did he call him that?

Then he almost rubbed his eyes in disbelief... Injured and woozy from blood loss, Lon rested his head against the drover's chest, and in return, Ben pressed his mouth against his messy, auburn hair. It wasn't a kiss per se, but there was no denying the intimate gesture and for a brief second Thomas wished Lon dead.

_“WHY DIDN’T ANY OF YOU IDIOTS USE A TOURNIQUET ON HIM?!”_

Thomas snapped out of his reverie and stared at the drover, shocked.

_“We… I… we didn’t know…”_

Impatient and disappointed in him, Benjamin looked away, and Thomas' heart sank...

...which was why he was here, waiting by the tool shed for Benjamin to come back from the fields. He needed to explain, he needed... well, Ben. He needed to be with him right then, even if it was just as a friend, to be reassured that he didn't think less of him after today.

"You okay mate?"

Thomas' heart boomed at the sound of the deep, accented voice, and he turned to find the drover standing behind him, a shovel resting against his shoulder.

"Um, yeah. Came here to talk to you."

"Yeah?"

Ben started walking and Thomas jumped off the trunk and quickly caught up with him,

"Yeah, about today—" he opened and held the tool shed's door for Benjamin,

"Ta." The Aussie walked in and Thomas closed the door behind them.

"About the tourniquet? I mean, about why we didn't use one."

Ben set the shovel down and turned to look at him quizzically, his hazel eyes narrowed. He already showered and changed out of his blood-stained clothes, and up-close Thomas could smell his soapy, warm scent. It was making him feel more than a little heady.

"The people in Darwin... they almost killed us themselves, you should have seen the way they looked at us. They wouldn't call a doctor or tell Lady Ashley where could we find one, so— well..."

"Don't worry about it, what's done is done."

"Yeah but you must think I'm such an idiot, I just wanted you to know—"

"I don't think that mate. You've done your best, just next time—tourniquet first."

"Um, yeah. Definitely."

He should have left. Their talk was clearly over, but Thomas found that he was rooted to the spot. He really didn't want to leave. Instead, he took a step forward.

Benjamin didn't flinch, only narrowed his eyes and watched him.

For a moment Thomas just stood there, not sure what to do, until Ben raised a questioning eyebrow at him—sealing his fate; he looked so charming right then, that all Thomas could do was move in, and, before Benjamin could react or even blink, fuse their mouths together.

He kissed him hard. Forced Ben's mouth open with his tongue, and plunged in deep, feverish with desire. He wanted this for so long—so fucking long, he fell for the drover at first sight, all of those long weeks ago!

It was worth the wait—he was in heaven. Ben was just as delicious as Thomas imagined he'd be! He tasted of mint and tobacco, and Thomas pressed his body against his, wanting it all and wanting it fast,

"Thomas." The drover pulled back, surprising him by knowing his first name, but his joy was short-lived. He was still panting; the taste, the smell, the feel of Ben making him stupid with desire, at least until Benjamin said,

"Don't."

Thomas didn't even realize that he was going in for another kiss until the other man spoke.

"We can't."

"...Why?"

The drover gave him a long, hard look, then looked away and sighed. He had both thumbs hooked into his belt, and his tipped hat hid his bright hazel eyes as he stood there, so close and yet so painfully very far.

"It's because of _him_ isn't it?"

Benjamin looked up, brows drawing together.

"You know that he's straight, right?"

"You should go."

It turned him cold. He shivered like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over his heated head.

"You don't really think that a choirboy like Lon would jump into bed with you, right?"

"Thomas," Benjamin took a gentle hold of his shoulder and it hurt more than a punch to the face, "I'm sorry."

"He's never going to sleep with you! Do you know what they do to sodomites in Oklahoma?"

"Good thing we're not in Oklahoma." Ben let go of his shoulder, and him admitting that he indeed wanted to get into Lon Hammond's pants had finally made Thomas turn his back on him and leave.

 _He'll never have him!_ Thomas told himself over and over since; Lon is as straight as an arrow.

Then another, small voice challenged; _but who could possibly resist Benjamin Walters Graham?..._

Who indeed.


	3. Strewth, mate

Lon rubbed his eyes, tired. Driven on pure adrenaline, he couldn't remember the last time that he slept, and now he was awake for over 24 hours.

He was hoping that they'd land in Darwin's International Airport, but the smoke billowing from the fires was too thick, and so their flight headed to Hughes Airfield in Noonamah, where a small US Airforce base had been in dire need of supplies.

Hughes Airfield was brand new and did not appear in Lon's map (he took it from a deserted book store in Normandy, the word 'Australie' catching his eye on the way out), but he did find Noonamah and learned that it was about two hours drive from Darwin.

Now, the said map was hidden at the very bottom of his green kit back, and every time someone did as much as stand close to his possessions Lon held his breath, hoping that he didn't look as nervous as he felt.

His poker face had been notoriously lousy, and Lon had to suppress his thoughts, convince himself that this was just another day of duty, or his face would be the telltale sign that he was going to desert.

Would Benjamin still want him if he abandoned the service without leave?

_Quiet you,_ Lon bit his lips.

Finding Ben in one piece would be more than enough. Anything else would be cherries on top.

***** *** *****

"Sargent Hammond?"

"Sargent Hammond!"

Lon's heart wasn't in his chest anymore. It was beating in his throat, making it hard to breathe.

"Lon!"

In the silence that followed their calls, Lon squeezed his eyes shut and prayed.

One of the first things that they were taught before heading down under a year ago, was that it's impossible to hide in the desert—and Noonamah was no different; flat areas for miles and miles, no trees, no obstacles...

And yet Lon's entire plan dependent on his ability to find cover in under ten minutes.

The odds were against him, at least until his training as a pilot came into play.

The other soldiers were still offloading supplies, mainly barrels of chemicals used by the waterbombers, when Lon told them that he's going to use his ten minutes break to check whether his sister had arrived. He estimated that he had additional five minutes before anyone noticed something was off.

Ten minutes later he was certain his plan has failed—there was nowhere to hide and soon they'd notice he was gone for longer than allowed.

Desperate, he scanned the rows of parked aircraft. All were locked and covered... but he recognized the noise of a hawk propeller slowing down, and followed it until he found an uncovered P40 Kittyhawk that was still cooling off, its gills wide open and the cockpit unmanned.

Lon hesitated for less than a second before climbing in and crouching low, heart beating fast, palms drenched with sweat.

***** *** *****

There's was a knock on the glass dome and Lon froze, petrified.

He was done for.

He'd either die in Europe or spend the rest of his life in prison, but when he looked up—

"Eddie?!"

old-man Eddie Tallara was peering down at him from outside his hiding place.

"Eddie!" Lon almost cried tears of joy—Eddie was like family to him, more than family really, the old man cared about him in ways his real-life nana and pop pop never did—like caring about Lon's happiness and not just his social status for one.

But by the time he climbed out of the aircraft Eddie was nowhere to be seen.

"Eddie?! Where are you?"

"I'm far away Lon, further than I ever wanted to be."

"I can't see you!"

"I know my dear, but I can still see you. You need to go to Stokes Hill Wharf."

"Eddie... please come back?"

"Back?" Eddie chuckled, his accented voice as warm as Lon remembered, "I'm right here with you. Remember, Stokes Hill Wharf."

Lon woke up, startled.

Somehow he fell asleep, uncomfortable and terrified as he'd been, the lack of sleep eventually knocking him out.

The small space was pitch dark and so very cold. He looked up; through the cockpits' glass dome he could see a million spangled stars, just like he remembered... and it suddenly hit him—he was back in Australia! He made it! He kept his promise and soon he will be with Ben! If he's aliv-- no. He didn't let his mind go there. He wouldn't be able to keep going if he did, Instead, he blindly searched the cockpit until he found the first aid kit and the emergency food ration he was after.

Then he carefully sat up and looked around.

The army base was dark and quiet. It was now or never.

He slid the glass open. It creaked and he held his breath, but nothing happened and after a minute he climbed down the short, built-in ladder, then jumped down, biting on a moan of pain as his cold, numb feet hit the ground.

Hiding between the aircraft he took off his uniform and changed into his civilian clothes. He forgot how cold the dessert would get after sunset, but all he had was his green military coat, and he couldn't possibly wear it. He shoved it into his backpack and began making his way towards the gate, too alert and adrenaline-driven to shiver from the cold.

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

The army base was small, isolated, and not under any kind of immediate threat, and so the sole soldier who was guarding the gate was slumped in a chair, listening to the radio and not paying much attention to the deserted road ahead. Lon patiently waited in the distance and as soon as the guy got up and walked to a small shed that he gathered was the men's room, he snuck out and started following the dark road leading away from Huges base.

He needed to get to Stokes Hill Wharf. 

  
***** *** *****

**The Northern Territory, November 5th, 1942**

"Hi, you! A cat ate your tongue? Answer me!"

Lon blinked against the bright light. Where was he—

—Oh god! He suddenly remembered,

"G'day," he said, imitating Benjamine's nasally twang.

Back when they were together he'd imitate Ben's accent just to get the drover to silence him with a kiss, hiding the uncontrollably twitching corners of his mouth against Lon's lips, because he didn't want to admit that Lon's impression of him was spot on.

He never actually tried to pass as an Aussie before, and was now holding his breath while the old man peered down at him with suspicion,

"Ha, g'day? Strewth mate! Want to tell me what ye'r doing in my barn?"

"Aw... Sorry mate," Lon blinked in mock confusion as he surveyed the barn with his eyes, "I'm not sure, actually... I hit the grog yesterday, got full drunk..." Lon's heart was beating somewhere in his throat. He was repeating stuff he heard Eddie say and feeling like a very obvious fraud, but the old man smiled down at him never the less,

"Well bloody oath! We've all been there. Where are you from? I can drop you off at Noonamah if ya can wait till arvo."

"I can wait, cheers mate." Lon walked until sunrise, then snuck into the barn because his feet couldn't carry him any further. He had no desire to continue his journey by foot.

"I'm actually trying to get to Darwin," he added, trying his luck.

"Darwin?! What ya wanna go up there for? We can have a barbie for tea if it's smoke yer after!"

The man laughed, exposing a big gap in his teeth. His grey hair was stringy and thin, and there were lines on his sun-kissed face, but Lon was failing to make out his age. Somewhere between old and not really old, was all he knew.

"Um, no, it's not smoke I'm after. My brother in law was up there when the Japanese attacked, we haven't heard from him since." Lon needed a break, he could hear his fake accent cracking, but the farmer didn't seem to notice.

"Ah. So you're going up there to give him a proper burial?"

"No!" he didn't mean to raise his voice, and had to blink fast because tears were suddenly blurring his vision,

"I'm sorry mate. my sister, she's got a kid... he's not even a year old. It's... it's not easy." Lon heard the lie slip from his lips in a fake Aussie accent and for a surreal moment felt like he was dreaming, or, more likely—was lying dead in some ditch in Europe and this was limbo... a chill ran down his spine and he visibly shuddered.

"Crikey. I'm sorry mate. Any idea where he was last seen?"

"Um..." the memory was crisp when he woke from his dream, but now he couldn't remember where Eddie had told him to go, "A wharf I think?"

"The wharf? Ah, that's no good mate, that's where— Nah, what do I know. Tell ya what, I have a mate who drives up there every day, he's with the straya red cross society, so he drives from the sites to the hospitals and such. I bet yous can go up there together, maybe he can help you with hospital records or whatnot."

"Today?" Lon's eyes grew wide. The man laughed,

"Nah, he's already out woop woop, but since you like my barn so darn much yer welcome to stay here another night, I'll take ya to him first thing tomorrow."

"Thanks, eh..."

"Crikey! Where are my manners? I'm Mike."

"Thank's Mike. Lon." he shook the older man's outstretched hand, his heart feeling lighter than it had in months.

***** *** *****

Lon was sitting on a bench by a rusty sign that read ACKERMAN'S FIELD, NO HUNTING, KEEP OUT. He had his worn-out map spread across his knees and was mapping in his head all of the possible routes to Darwin, just in case.

Crickets were chirping and the wind was rustling through the wheat, the sounds music to his ears after months of deafening explosions and bullets whistling too close for comfort. Did people outside of Europe appreciate their good fortune?

He heard Mike's footsteps and quickly folded the map, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that it was in French.

"What ya doing mate?"

"Just sitting. Still a bit seedy from all the drinking." and by 'drinking' he meant extreme lack of sleep and the tremendous stress he was under.

"Eh. Hair of the dog?" the farmer asked, offering him a bottle of beer.

"Cheers." Lon took it, trying to remember when was the last time that he drank alcohol. He suspected that it was back in the States before he was drafted for the second time. Not that he drank much even back then, what with his parents being Catholic and choosing to abstain. They both felt particularly strongly about lying, and if they saw him right then, a renegade pretending to be an Australian—they would have shunned him.

Then again, had they known that he was doing it because he was in love with another man... he'd rather not think of what they'd have done to him then.

"Lousy weather." Old man Mike Ackerman said as he took a seat beside him.

The sky was deceptively lucid, and the humidity was high. It lured out dark, dense clouds of net-winged midges.

"Gonna rain like no one’s business." Lon said, missing old man Tallara so much his chest hurt.

"Rain, huh?"

"You can tell by the humidity—that’s the key." Lon muttered, suddenly melancholic.

“True mate, Fair dinkum! I knew yer true blue the moment I found you having a nanna's in my barn! When I found out someone snuck in I was worried you'd be one of them darn Yankees, truth be told."

Lon just scoffed, not trusting his voice right then.

"Coming and going like they own the darn place, I had to drive drunken soldiers away at gunpoint one night!"

"Yeah," Lon replied flatly. His US Army uniform was poorly hidden in the bottom of his suspiciously green backpack, and for a moment he wondered if Mike was on to him and this was a test. He could feel Mike's eyes on him, waiting for him to respond, so he said,  
"Stayed in a cattle station south of here last year, it was full of soldiers."

"Oh yeah? What's it called?"

"Um..." Lon didn't like the intense way in which Mike was looking at him, "Something Down?..."

"Faraway Downs?"

"Yes!" Lon's eyes widened uncontrollably, potential trap or not, "You know it?"

Mike shrugged, "It's abanded now, they drove the cattle up woop woop. Had some legal problems with the land, which is just as well, let me tell ya. The place was becoming a darn American army base."

"Noisy like?"

"That too. Just patrolling the area like they owned it, looking down on all of yous and shouting shit at the ladies. Good riddance is what I say."

"So where are they now?"

"The soldiers? Europe or the States. Not here and that's the important part."

"Um, no. I mean the people from the cattle station?"

"Ah. Who knows. The owner was English, heard she was a right cow, eh. So,"

Mike rose to his feet, "Barbie for tea?"

"Sure," Lon got up as well, wondering if Mike hated homosexual men as much as he hated foreigners.

He suspected that the answer was yes.


	4. Milwaukee

Lon was leaning against the door of Ian's Ford pickup truck, keeping his distance because his only set of civilian clothes reeked of smoke after last night's barbeque; he must have looked and smelled like a hobo...

Mike gave him another funny look before they went their separate ways, as if he suspected something was off, but he didn't say anything while Lon boarded his friend's truck.

"Keep a low profile up there, while the city is a shambles gangs took over downtown and some areas in the east," Mike warned, "and good luck finding your brother in law," he winked as he closed the door behind him, and something about the way he said brother in law made Lon think that he should have chosen a more convincing cover story. Maybe his uncle, next time.

***** *** *****

Ian was a grumpy old farmer who said 'Ow ya goin,' and little else, which was just as well because Lon could barely keep his eyes open.

He dreamed of trenches and explosions, and of Nolah, standing dangerously close to enemy lines right before sudden, blinding white flares flew all around him and fizzled out like rockets—

He woke up startled just as they were passing a sign which read DARWIN 10 M, and there was no mistaking the heavy stench of smoke now. The sky above was completely grey, with smoke or clouds—Lon wasn't sure.

"You're awake? Look at that!" Ian said and Lon followed his pointing finger with his gaze, "I think that... Holy dooley, yes! Look!"

He was pointing at the windshield and Lon had to squint his eyes to focus his vision. Small drops of rain were hitting the glass sporadically and growing larger and denser by the second.

"We were having the worst bushfire season on record even before the darn attack, looks like you brought your croweaters' weather up north with ya!" Ian laughed and patted his shoulder, suddenly animated in a way Lon didn't imagine the old man was capable of.

In his mind's eye, he could just see Nullah laughing soundlessly, fist over his mouth, before dashing off in search of Eddie.

"Stokes Hill Wharf!" Lon suddenly remembered.

"Yeah, I know. Mike said. What's the name of your brother in law anyway?"

"Oh, um, it's Benjamin." Lon said, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt, "Benjamin Graham."

"Mm, Benjamin Graham? ...well, if he died in the attack it was before my time with the red cross, I have a good memory for names."

"Thanks." Lon said grimly.

Outside the rain grew heavier, and dense fog fell over the far-off city.

***** *** *****

Lon stood in the milky, slow-moving fog.

Ian's van vanished into the mist within seconds, the squawks of a flock of seagulls damping his accented 'good luck!' as he drove off, leaving Lon exposed to both the rain and the salty spray of the waves that crashed against the rocks,

_Now what?_

He could swear that he heard the far-off sound of people laughing, excited, as the rain fell down freely from the sky, but the wharf stood empty, not a single freight vessel or passenger steamer in sight. The burnt remains of a set of platform scales marked the site of a destroyed coal yard, and Lon could make out a broken boat railway not far from it.

He hugged himself for warmth, momentarily tempted to dig out his green army coat, but he decided against it when he was reminded of Mike's disdain of American soldiers.

He searched the row of warehouses with his eyes; most of them collapsed during the attack, but further down, where the dock still stood intact, Lon could make out a potential shelter.

He needed to eat and sleep, and to wait out the storm.

Hopeful, he began making his way.

***** *** *****

By the time Lon got to the warehouses in question, he was soaked to the bone, hugging himself and shivering.

He was planning to start a fire once inside; he couldn't think of a more miserable end to his journey than dying of pneumonia, but hIs plans changed as soon as he entered through a collapsed hole in the wall;  
...he could hear music!

It was a droning, string version of White Christmas, and when Lon looked down he saw torn bags and half-eaten vegetables littered across the dusty floor. Someone was living in the ruins.

He was still debating whether to leave the way he came or venture forward, when he heard a gun being cocked and looked up;

An aboriginal man stood on a big, rusty container, his rifle aimed down at Lon,

"Are you the dipstick that's been sneaking round here? You here for our booze?"

"No," Lon's blue eyes grew wide and he raised both hands, fingers splayed out, to show that he wasn't armed, "I've never been here before."

A big, toothy smile began spreading across the man's face, "Are you American, boy?"

"I'm. um."

Caught off-guard, Lon forgot to fake an accent. All he could see, all he could think of, was the tip of the long barrel. To make it this far only to die in a forsaken warehouse would be soul-destroying!

The man made an 'up' gesture with the barrel and Lon raised his hands over his head,

"Please. I was only seeking shelter from the rain."

"Ay! Darren! Look! Nâpês kihci-môhkomân!"

The music died-off.

"Kihci-môhkomân?" a tall man joined them from deeper inside the building. He gave Lon a once-over, then began laughing, "This must be our lucky day! You will make us a lot of money, eh Yankee?"

"I don't have any money, but I have some food. If you just let me—"

"Shut up. Hands behind your back, yes?" The man jumped off the container, rifle still pointed towards Lon,

"You're making a mistake," Lon said, but placed his hands behind his back, "I don't have any money and my parents wouldn't pay a dime in ransom if that's your plan."

"Ransom! Ha." the taller man snorted as he disappeared the way he came, leaving Lon with his armed partner. A moment later, he returned with a rope and proceeded to tie Lon's wrists together.

"Move!" the shorter man poked Lon's back with the barrel.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the okimâw."

"The what?"

"I said move!"

"Wait—my bag! I need it!"

"It's not your bag anymore, Yankee. Besides, I thought that you said you don't have any money!"

"I don't! There's a hat in the bag—please, I just need my hat—you can keep the rest, I beg yo—"

"—I said move!" the man shoved Lon violently, forcing him back out and into the rain, dense drops of water washing away his hot tears.

[](https://imgbb.com/)

***** *** *****

_'while the city is a shambles gangs took over downtown and some areas in the east'_

Lon was reminded of Mike's words as he sat in the back of their Jeep, heart bleeding for the lost hat, eyes glued to the window in a desperate attempt to scan the city for Ben or the police, but the streets were wet and empty, large pillars of smoke billowing up into the grey sky.

"It's a miracle, eh Yankee? Yesterday the flames were as tall as this building!"

They gestured at a destroyed hangar, its front reading _QANTAS EMPIRE AIRWAYS LTD._

"Where are we?"

"We're not far Yankee, almost there."

They brought the Jeep to a stop about ten minutes later, in what seemed to be the middle of a field, and held at gunpoint Lon climbed out. 

The rain slowed to a drizzle now, and once outside the Jeep Lon spotted a built man harvesting corn, his red hair bright even on such a dark, grey day.

"We found another one boss!" his shorter capture called.

The man released the stalk he's been holding and stood up, his back popping audibly. He dropped the sweetcorn into a sack and drew a drink from a waterskin before surveying Lon with narrowed, dark eyes, then nodding to himself. What little was visible of his face between beard and hair was tanned and dirty with soot, but at least his eyes, while a bit wild, seemed sane.

"Where ya from boy?" he rasped in a thick Australian accent.

"Milwaukee." Lon surprised himself by lying.

"Yeah?" the stranger smiled, "We'll see about that. Ten pounds for this one. 15 for the next one you find."

Lon watched, wide-eyed as they exchanged money for him. They concluded the deal by giving the redhead the end of the rope that's been tied to Lon's wrists, then got back to their Jeep and drove off, back to the warehouse where Ben's hat's been left behind.

"Leave me alone!" Lon protested when the stranger gave the rope a tug.

"Maybe we will, maybe we won't." the man shrugged indifferently, "Start walking boy, before the rain gets us." he gave the rope another tug.

"No! Let me go!" Lon resisted the pull, his voice cold, yet hysteria was audible underneath.

"For the love of God, walk or I'll drag you across this field!"

The man looked dead-serious, and miserable, Lon started walking. He finally made it down under and surviving was his top priority. He'd be no good to Ben dead.

"How did you end up in Oz anyway?"

"That's none of your business."

"Ha. I suppose yer right." the redhead man stepped over a log—one large step did it, then waited for his tied up prisoner to clumsily climb over, "But you'll start talking when we get to the camp. They always do."

"What camp?"

The man ignored him, forcing Lon to tag along in silence.

_'Why did you leave?'_ Thomas asked him on the night he confessed that he had them all figured out.

They've been walking for what felt like over an hour, when the stranger's red hair caught the pale sun, the bright color suddenly reminding Lon of his redhead comrade.

_'What option was there but to leave?'_

_'Benjamin's a catch!'_ Thomas's face reddened, and Lon's heart went out for him. He couldn't imagine life without what he had with Ben, and Thomas had to do just that, _'You can just tell that he'd protect the person he loves at all costs, that he would take all of life's battle damage alone and keep his other-half safe! And he fucking choose you... How could you throw that away and think that you could come back for it later, in the midst of a world-wide war?'_

Following his capture, Lon blinked fast, a lump forming in his throat. Thomas was right. He was an idiot for leaving Australia, and if he'd die at the hands of this man and end up in an unmarked grave in this godforsaken field it'd be all his fault.

A shiver ran down his spine.

Before long he was shivering uncontrollably, underdressed for the weather. As the evening grew colder his old stampede injury began to ache.

Suddenly, another memory came. That of Benjamin applying oil to the healing scar every night for two weeks, right before the big drove began.

Ben was dead tired back then, riding from dusk to dawn in preparations for the move, while Lon was stuck in his room bored, off sick due to his injury.

In spite of it all, when Lon felt particularly low and insecure due to the big, long scar now running across his calf, Ben would turn the therapeutic session into foreplay, working his way up Lon's legs with his hot mouth and strong, oils covered hands, until Lon was writhing and begging for it. Eventually, Ben would end the sweet torture and take him into his mouth, making Lon forget why was he sad to begin with, making him wonder how could he possibly get sad in a world where Ben had his back.

After Allie, Lon could no longer entertain the hope that he'd be taken care of by someone who loved him. He assumed that if he'd ever be able to form another romantic relationship, he would be merely tolerated by the object of his desire, and stopping them from leaving would be constant, hard work...

...but everything was easy with Benjamin, and for the first time in his life Lon felt loved, worshiped even... so, of course, he threw that away, committing himself to the punishment that his righteous parents bestowed upon him... after almost dying in that car crash, after Allie had left him, after his parents saw to it that he'd get sent to fight the war for the second time, after all of that—Lon was given another chance at happiness and he threw it away.

_So now what?_

A bolt of energy started somewhere inside his ribcage and shot straight into his cold, aching limbs. He surprised the stranger by suddenly pulling on the rope and making him lose his grip. He began running then, as fast as his legs could carry him, old injury and all, and for a blissful moment he put so much distance between him and his capture that he thought he was going to make it—go back to the wharf, get Benjamin's hat, then—

—a sudden pull on the rope made him lose his balance and nearly fall back. He turned his head--the rope got snagged by a branch, forcing Lon to retreat and undo it while the redhead was quickly closing in on him.

He was but a few feet behind when Lon could resume his run, but it'd been too late by then;

He fell to the ground when the man pulled on the rope, and feeling like he was failing Benjamin for the second time that day began sobbing uncontrollably;

"No! Get off of me—let me go!" he crawled away from the man, getting his clothes muddy and wet. The stranger got hold of, then yanked him by his legs, "—Ben!..." the name slipped his lips, unbidden, as the man used the long rope to tie Lon's ankles as well,

"Shut up shut up!!" The man pressed a calloused hand to his lips then threw himself on top of Lon, covering his body and forcing him to stay very still.

They were lying in a ditch and above them Lon could hear a vehicle approaching. He began moaning 'help' against the man's hand,

"Shh! Stop it you dipstick, these are Baron Fletcher's men. If they find us we're both good as dead!"

That Lon could believe. He remembered the name; it was the man who was after Lady Sarah Ashley's cattle, the same one who denied Lon medical care after creating the stampede in which Lon got injured, and Nullah almost died. Nodding his understanding against his capture's hand he held very quiet and still.

After a long moment the man released him and rolled off, but before he could rise to his feet Lon whispered,

_"—Yuen Po!"_

Baron Fletcher's right hand was standing not far from them, taking a leak in the bushes with his back on them.

The redhead froze and they both waited for the short, round man to finish his business and head back to the car.

A single downcast would have doomed them, but the man seemed to be in a hurry and as soon as he was out of their sight they heard an engine being gunned, and then the Jeep drove off.

"Ta," the redhead sat up, then rose to his feet and untied Lon's ankles, helping him up.

Lon was properly shivering by then, teeth clattering, as the sweat on his skin cooled and his wet clothes stuck to his skin.

"Don't you have a coat?"

"Your g-goons t-took all of my belongings!"

"They have? That's rubbish, they weren't supposed to. Eh. We're not far now. Another question for ya mate. How come you know Yuen Po?"

"From Darwin," Lon shrugged, not even sure why he was lying, but he went with his gut nevertheless.

"From Darwin!" the man echoed, amused, "Okay Milwaukee, let's." he tugged on the rope and Lon bit his lips, missing Ben so much it hurt.

***** *** *****

At sunset, they entered a savannah woodland, and a couple of minutes later Lon could hear voices in the distance and smell smoke. His stomach gave a hungry growl and he was reminded that all of his food was stolen. All of his water supply as well.

They were now following a shallow creek and the very sight of water made his mouth feel painfully dry.

"Are these freshwater?"

"Palm Creek? Sure, you fond of bush leeches?"

Lon sighed. But of course.

"There's plenty of drinking water in the camp."

"The camp." Lon echoed, suddenly nervous, "So... you're hunting American citizens and then...?" he tried his luck again.

"Hunting!" the redhead scoffed and shook his head, looking far too amused, "So. Who's Ben?"

"No one!" Lon said a bit too loudly, feeling the stranger's eyes on him. The man wouldn't look away, and Lon's face began burning, the very tips of his ears feeling hot.

"Okay!" The redhead said through a huge grin. "Ben's no one, apparently."

"How much longer?" Lon asked, desperate for the man to drop it.

As if answering his question, Lon heard guns being cocked.

"Who's there?"

"Just me."

"Rob?"

"The one and only. Got ourselves another one."

"Eh. Bet it's another false alarm."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? What would you do once we're all unemployed?"

"Retire!" the man in the shadow replied and they both laughed.

"Doesn't look like a killer to me."

"Strangers things have happened." _'Rob'_ replied then tugged on the rope, signaling Lon to get going.

"...a killer?" Lon asked once they walked past the guard.

"Don't trouble your pretty little head with it just yet."

***** *** *****

"You okay there?" Rob asked.

"Fine," Lon rasped, recovering from his second coughing fit in the last ten minutes, "now what?"

"Now we see if you're our man." Rob gave the rope a small tug and Lon took it as 'shut up and walk', so he continued to lag behind, feeling heavy-headed. 

"Are we there yet?" He asked after another short while. He needed a break; his eyes were beginning to feel hot.

"Just you walk."

Some minutes later they arrived at a small glade, and Lon counted at least seven caravans and four jeeps parked among the trees. Campfires were scattered between them, as well as laundry lines and boxes of ammunition. What was this place?

Men and women peered at them from their caravans, studying Lon with hostility in their eyes.

"Hi Olivia, where's the boss?"

A woman carrying a toddler made a head gesture towards one of the caravans, then gave Lon a dirty look. Rob made a 'follow me' head gesture, and Lon, as well as a bunch of curious men that gathered around them, followed Rob towards the caravan she pointed at. Local men kept on emerging from the woods until there were dozens of them... the camp must have been bigger than Lon had gathered.

"Hold this, will ya?" Outside the caravan, Rob gave an overgrown man the end of the rope, and Lon's eyes grew wide in a silent plea—he didn't want to be left alone with these people!

But Rob ignored him.

"Hey boss!" He called as he climbed the three steps in a single, big step, "Waru found another one! I have a good feeling about this one, I think that he may be the one!"

That made the hatred in the crowd's eyes double and Lon gulped.

_"Murderer!"_ Olivia hissed.

He was still looking at her in shock when Rob emerged from the caravan followed by his boss. Lon turned his head and his knees almost gave out—

"Be—"

Benjamin Walters Graham crossed the distance between them in a couple of big strides, eyes blazing and fists clenched, and that was the last thing that Lon could see before the man punched him to the sound of the crowd's loud cheers.

Hands tied behind his back, the force of the blow threw Lon off balance, and he fell to the ground.

_Not Ben,_ Lon thought, his cheek pulsating with pain, Ben would never—

"Get him out of my sight." The cold voice was unmistakably Ben's, and down on the ground Lon's vision got blurry with tears, "And if one of yous touches him—you'll regret the day we've met. This one's mine."


	5. Shell shock

Rob dragged Lon to his feet and then through the hostile crowd towards what looked like the stables.

Lon let him.

There was no fight left in him.

A part of him suspected that he died in Europe after all, and this was Hell; a world in which he betrayed his country and snuck to Australia, only to find Ben's evil twin and get falsely accused of murder.

His shivering had gotten worse, and the left side of his face hurt, but nothing felt broken at least. Lon had seen Benjamin fight before—Ben could kill a man with his bare hands. Lon got lucky.

Rob let go of him and Lon sank to the hay covered cement floor. He hugged his knees to his chest while tears ran down his face silently and uncontrollably.

"I'll be right back,"

Rob turned to leave, but before he could close the stable/cell's door on Lon, Lon said,

"Tell him that I'm sorry about the—" a lump in his throat made his voice betray him. He had to bite his trembling lips and draw a shuddering breath through his nose before he could say, "...about breaking my promise. Tell him I tried my best... and that I'm... that I'm sorry about the hat, as well."

Rob sighed, lips pressed together. After a long moment, he said, "You really don't remember me, do ya?"

"I... no?" Lon felt as if he was losing his mind.

"Right. I'll be right back."

"Wait!" Lon shouted as the door closed behind the man, "Remember you from where?"

...nothing.

He hung his head in despair.

***** *** *****

"Benjamin!"

The drover was helping Leo and Will light a fire when Rob had finally found him. Benjamin rose to his feet. His eyes looked red and glossy in the campfire's bright light.

"Is it done?"

"Yes."

"And the door is locked?"

"And chained, like you wanted."

"Okay. Ta."

"He's off his face, looks dehydrated and feverish."

"Then handle it."

"He asked me to tell you—"

"—don't."

"Listen, mate,"

"I said don't!"

"Okay." Rob raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, "You're the boss."

Frowning, Ben gave him a disappointed look before bowing his head and walking away.

Well, it was worth a try.

[](https://imgbb.com/)

***** *** *****

Lon felt like death. By the time the door to his cell reopened the room was spinning and his teeth were chattering.

"Who's t-there?"

"It's me." The redhead Aussie said, "Easy now, let's get you sorted."

"Why b-bother if I'm a m-murderer?"

Rob scoffed and touched his forehead, "Jesus! You're burning up mate. Here,"

The Aussie used a couple of blankets that he brought with him to arrange a makeshift bed, "lie down, I'm gonna get help."

***** *** *****

Lon's biggest regret in life, he thought as he lied there sick and helpless, was how stupid he'd been on his last day down under. The day the Big Drove began. The day he told Ben that he was being sent to Europe.

_'For how long?'_

_'What?'_

_'How long were you drafted?'_ Ben demanded, his brown eyes piercing Lon's very soul,

_'One year. I have four months left.'_

_'Then come back here,'_ Ben said grimly, lips pressed into a tight line.

_'What a hearty invitation!'_ Lon tried joking, but Ben didn’t blink. _'I… I can’t.'_

_'Why the hell not?'_

_'Four months—a year. That’s just the beginning. The brigadier general has agreed to allow me back into the 33rd Pursuit Squadron if I sign up for another five years, so—'_

_'Five years?!'_

_'Yeah. My parents wanted—'_

_'Fuck what your parents wanted!'_

_'They’re my parents!'_

_'That’s a beaut, mate. Maybe if you live the life they want for you long enough, maybe, just maybe, they’ll remember you on the next holiday!'_

_'They want what’s best—'_

_'—The hell they do. What do you want, Lon?'_

Lon never answered Ben's question.

He kissed him and gave him his dog tags. Told him that he'll be back for them, but what he really wanted to say, what he _should_ have said was _'I want you. I want to stay here with you till the end of time... I love you.'_

Will he ever get to say the three words now that he's in purgatory?

The door of the improvised cell opened for the second time, but Lon couldn't focus his sight on anything by then. His body felt as though it was on fire, and a sudden, violent coughing fit was threatening to send his ribcage into spasms.

"It could either be influenza or pneumonia," an old-sounding man had said, "I can't properly diagnose in these conditions, but I'll give him a shot of penicillin. It'll be his best chance."

"Does he stand a good chance?"

"Only time will tell."

There was a needle prick, then he was forced by the doctor to down lots of water, and that was the last thing Lon could remember before he fell asleep.

***** *** *****

Lon slept for what felt like days, and suffered intense and ghastly dreams; about Allie, the accident, his parents... and worst—about Europe and explosions, and Major Dent screaming, no eyebrows and so much pain in his eyes!

Twice he was certain that the stables were being bombarded, and woke up with a shout, but a hand was pressed to his shoulder in the dark, forcing him to lie back down and fall back into a restless sleep.

"So what's the plan?" the words mingle with a dream about boarding a Skytrooper in RAF Gatwick, only to find out that there's a bomb on board the aircraft soon after take-off,

_You come back, you bring the wet._ He could suddenly hear Nullah's voice and shook his head in his sleep in order to clear it—he was trying to make out their words, he thought that he could hear Ben speak,

"We cross the wetlands at nightfall, then reach the wharf through the monsoon forests to the east."

"And if we bump into the Baron's men?"

"Then we handle them."

"So..."

"So let's make sure not to bump into them."

"Yes, boss."

"What about him? He isn't getting any better." a third man asked. His question was greeted by silence.

Someone placed a cold cloth on his forehead, and Lon drifted off once more.

***** *** *****

He was given another shot of penicillin some hours later, right before he was lifted off the ground, and carried away in his hazy state.

He tried to move his lips, let them know that he was conscious, but found that he couldn't even open his eyes.

"He's not looking good."

"He'll be fine." Was the gruff reply.

And comforted by the promise behind the words Lon allowed himself to drift off.

***** *** *****

Bullets whistled loudly all around—

_The Italians were shooting at them!_ His body jerked and his eyes flew open,

"Shh! Quiet you!" a hand was pressed against his lips, muffling his startled cries. The world was dark and silent—but he could swear that he heard gunfire mere seconds ago!

He was in the backseat of a jeep. The driver was missing and the door was open.

"Coast is clear, I'll be back in five." a whisper came from outside.

"Okay. We'll keep an eye on him, be careful." Rob replied from his spot beside him, and Lon made out the face of another man that he didn't know but recognized from the camp in the passenger's seat.

When he closed his burning eyes he noticed that the smell of salt hung heavy in the humid air. The sound of the crashing waved lulled him back to sleep.

***** *** *****

His sleep was dreamless for a change, and the next time Lon opened his eyes he found himself in an unfamiliar room and completely drenched in sweat. Also, feeling seasick— and that's when he noticed the ship's gentle sway.

Where the hell was he?

His first panicked thought was that he was being taken back to the States to face murder charges, and in the soupy state, he was in he wasn't sure whether he really found Ben or hallucinated it.

He touched his left cheek then hissed in pain.

He found Ben alright.

The thought comforted him, in spite of it all.

***** *** *****

It was their fifth day at sea, and Cairns Seaport was becoming visible in the distance.

"Daddy, will it be much longer?"

"Come here, pumpkin."

He lifted the seven-year-old so that she could look out the window,

"Can you see land straight ahead?"

"Ah-ah."

"Well, this is going to be our new home."

"And uncle Will and uncle Ben's too?"

"Yes, sweetheart." He kissed the top of her head and set her down.

"What about the American? Will the police be waiting for us in Carns?"

"It's called Cairns baby, and I don't know... But I need to go check on him now, so you stay here with Mr. Buttons, and I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay. Be careful daddy, I heard that he's a very bad man."

Rob sighed. "Okay, Sophie. Play nice."

"Yes daddy."

***** *** *****

He climbed the steps leading to the upper deck,

"Hi,"

Benjamin didn't turn.

He was leaning against the rail with his back on Rob, while the wind ruffled his sunkissed, dark hair.

"I brought him some food and he actually ate."

...still nothing.

"He's looking better, like he's going to make it."

That made Benjamin nod without turning to face him.

"Okay, I'll let you be... But, um. Don't be too hard on yourself, yeah? It's nearly over."

"Ta." Benjamin said, his voice thick with emotion, and Rob bowed his head and headed back in to check on Sophie.

***** *** *****

"Ready?" Rob was nudging him.

Wearily, Lon opened his eyes.

"Up," the Aussie helped him into a seating position and the entire cabin began to sway; Lon tried to focus his gaze on the redhead, but found that he couldn't.

"...can't..."

He leaned back, eyes shut, and listened to the seagulls cry outside the porthole while catching his breath.

"Come on."

"I can't."

"We have to go... Or do you want me to carry you like a sack of mulch?"

Lon shook his head 'no', while gathering his strength and bracing himself for a second attempt.

***** *** *****

Rob had to support him with a hand on his back, but at least Lon had managed to walk for the first time in days. They walked the long corridors of the ship, past the angry people that he vaguely remembered from the camp.

"—They got you good, didn't they scumbag?"

"—Shame that pneumonia didn't finish you off!"

"—You mess with Benjamin—you mess with all of us!"

_Mess with Benjamin?_ _What were they talking about?_ Rob gave his shoulder a warning squeeze—as if Lon was able to provoke them back even if he wanted to.

"Daddy?" a small, redhead girl had asked,

"Wait with Uncle Will like I told you, I'll meet you on land."

"Be careful." she said, her big, green eyes filled with fear.

"I promise, pumpkin. You stay with uncle Will."

_...careful of what?_ Lon would have laughed if he could; he must have looked like death. He sure felt like it, and Rob was that much taller and bigger than him on a good day... What did these people believe he was capable of?

"Slowly," Rob guided as they walked down the boarding platform. The day was chilly and Lon could taste the sea salt on his lips. He inhaled the fresh air deeply; it was such a relief after so many days indoors.

"Are you going to turn me in?" he rasped, voice raw.

Rob ignored his question and helped him climb off the platform.

A jeep had been waiting for them not far from the dock. The driver greeted them with a small gesture of his head, but Rob seemed determined to wait by platform, probably for the little redhead girl who was afraid Lon might hurt him.

He tried to scoff but it came out as a gasp, then weak and sore he closed his eyes, but it made him sway unsteadily and he had to blink them open.

The sun had already set, and the evening was fast becoming cloudy and dark. A man Lon vaguely recalled seeing in the camp, and then later on their nightly jeep ride, was descending from the ship with Rob's daughter in his arms. She was looking at Lon with big, wide eyes.

"Come here, Sophie. He's not going to hurt you." Rob said when they joined them on the pier.

Hesitantly, she came closer and hugged her father's legs, wide eyes still glued to Lon, but he didn't notice;

_Ben_ emerged from inside the ship, joined by two men, and Lon waited to see if he was going to get mad or cry. He hoped that he would get mad after the way Ben had treated him. He didn't want to cry out here with so many eyewitnesses, but he might; his heart ached all the time since he left Oz, and it only seemed to have worsened in Ben's presence.

Ben gave the two men something.

Lon could only guess that it was money because tears were blurring his vision to the point he couldn't make it out.

Heart pounding, he had to look at the ground and bite his lips while Ben climbed down the boarding platform, wood creaking louder and louder the closer he became...

...the Aussie was so close now, closer than Lon had dared to dream of back when he was deployed in Italy and all had seemed lost...

But remembering Benjamin's cold voice when he demanded that they'd get Lon out of his sight, Lon's eyes stayed glued to the drover's R.M. Williams’ boots, unable to look him in the eye without risking more tears.

The ship blew its foghorn and began pulling away from the dock, and from behind Lon's back Rob said, "We'll wait in the jeep."

"Ta," Ben replied. At the sound of his voice, Lon's lips began trembling uncontrollably.

Then there were footsteps... then silence.

They were all alone.

A seagull squawk. The waves murmured softly.

Was the drover going to explain? ...or punch him again? he gulped,

"...Lon?"

Looking up hurt Lon's heart.

Benjamin looked every bit as good as he remembered; with his warm hazel eyes, stubbled strong jaw, and unruly bangs. He was wearing his trademark worn-out bandana, a half-unbuttoned shirt, and a tight pair of jeans.

Benjamin Walters Graham must have been the best-looking man in the whole wide world, and not for the first time since they've met, Lon felt unworthy in his presence and so very small...

"Hey," Ben was reaching out now, and Lon followed the movement with his eyes, rooted to the spot, until the older man was gently tracing the bruise on his left, offended cheek.

"...I'm so sorry," Tears were pooling in the Aussie's bright hazel eyes, and great relief swept through Lon, so great he felt like crying,

"...Ben," He reached out to clasp his shoulder, and somehow that had turned into an embrace, with Lon sobbing loudly, uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have left... I should have listened to you... When I heard about Darwin... God..." Sick and emotional, his knees failed him; the drover was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Hey, hey... Easy..." The Aussie softly said, his lips pressed against Lon's ear, his thick accent just as gorgeous as Lon remembered, "You made it. Don't you cry, darling. You made it, and I'm not letting you out of my sight ever again."


	6. Rob

_Thank Christ._

Rob thought as he watched the two men from inside the jeep.

To say that he thought Benjamin was being overly precautious would have been the understatement of the century, but he was so tired of arguing with his boss and old-time friend that he eventually played along, though not without reservations.

Yes, the baron was a dangerous man, but the poor Yankee had been through enough, and having to treat the sick, shell-shocked young man like a prisoner was torture. He almost slipped at one point, almost blew their cover, but the young man was too feverish to connect the dots by then.

Lying to their 'prisoner' was a pain, but in hindsight, the worst part had been that Ben didn't trust even him with the truth. His old mate had tried selling him the same bull crap about hiring a crew and staying in that death trap of a city because he was searching for the man who had killed his sister.

 _"Yeah, okay."_ he said when Ben asked him to recruit local aboriginal men as scouts, _"but first tell me the truth, I think that after everything we've been through you owe me that much."_

_"I don't know what you're talking about mate."_

_"Mate, eh? Maybe that's the problem. I know you too well to buy into this bull!"_

_"Rob, just get these men."_ Benjamin said, uncharacteristically avoiding his gaze, _"The sooner we'll find him the sooner we can leave this hell hole."_

"Him? You mean your sister's killer?" Rob searched and held the wild hazel eyes.

Benjamin scoffed and looked away, frustrated.

_"Yes."_

_"...Nah, I know you too well mate. Hate wouldn't have kept you in Darwin and made you spend all of your life savings—your future ranch saving—just to get revenge. Love, however..."_

Benjamin looked up and gave him a dirty, warning glare, but Rob didn't care. Money or not, he wasn't taking this job and risking his life, _his baby's life,_ without knowing the truth, _"It's the American soldier, isn't it?"_

_"Robert—"_

_"—the one with blue eyes and a southern accent? The one who came to fetch supplies with us after he got injured in the stampede?"_

Benjamin sighed, face darkening. In all those years, everything they've been through—Rob had never seen the other drover get agitated about anything.

_"I'm not judging you mate, but you have to tell me the truth... or swear to God—I'm out of here."_

_"...His name is Lon."_ Ben said, emotional, then stopped to draw in a shaky breath, _"And for all I know he could have... he could have died in Europe... or... or met some French girl and now they're both back in the States... So..."_

Rob took hold of his old friends' shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, making Benjamin look up and reveal his bright, stormy eyes,

 _"...I told him that I'll be waiting for him in Darwin. If he gets here and I'm gone..."_ Benjamin's eyes became watery. He blinked fast, fighting the emotions that threatened to overcome him.

Rob had never seen him this shaken.

_"Yeah. Okay. I'll find scouts. If he, or any other Yankee for that matter, arrives in Darwin—we'll be the first to know."_

_"...thanks."_

_"Don't mention it."_

Rob expected to stay in Darwin for five-six months tops and was surprised when Benjamin insisted that they's stay put as the weeks, then months kept on rolling by.

Before long they've been in Darwin a full year, and bringing up Lon's name around Benjamin became impossible, as well as asking what happens when he runs out of money, but as long as Benjamin was paying them all, no one was going to challenge his stubborn persistence... and what do you know—in the end, it turned out that the young American soldier was equally committed.

"Daddy, what is uncle Ben doing?" Sophie asked, bringing him back to the present.

"The American soldier and him had a big fight honey, and now they're making up." Rob said, happy that the pretense was finally over, promising himself that he'd never lie to Sophie about anything else ever again.

***** *** *****

Sitting next to Ben in the backseat, Lon's head began to feel fuzzy, and his eyes felt hot.

"Seatbelts please,"

The driver said before gunning the engine.

Ben complied, then splayed his droving jacket across their laps. Underneath it, he brushed the back of his hand against Lon's and gave him a sidelong glance.

Turning to face the window so that no one can see his wet eyes, Lon took Ben's hand and squeezed it so hard it was bound to have hurt, but Ben just let him do it, didn’t even flinch. Lon felt like he'd die before letting go.

The driver cranked the wheel all the way right and backed up slowly, pulling out of the parking lot. A short minute later the seaport was but a dot in the rearview mirror.

Lon was still clutching Ben's hand when he fell asleep, feverish and exhausted.

***** *** *****

It was dark when he woke up, and they were driving slowly across uneven terrain.

"Right here," Ben said, and the driver brought the jeep to a stop.

All Lon could see were tall Eucalyptus trees, colored bright blue by the full moon above.

Why did they stop?

He turned away from the window to ask, and his eyes met Rob's amused ones. The redhead drover, who was seating to Benjamin's left with his sleeping seven-year-old in his arms, winked at him, and Lon's gaze dropped to where his hand held Ben's bigger one, fingers interlaced... but their hands were still covered by the droving jacket. The Aussie gave him a knowing look never the less, and Lon was happy that it was too dark for anyone to notice whether he was blushing.

"Is everything okay?" He asked,

"Everything's just fine. We're going to camp out here for the night."

***** *****

Lon pulled the blanket tighter around himself and sipped on the herbal tea that their driver brewed from local, wild plants that he gathered. It tasted of Fennel; sweet and fragrant with a strong, licorice-like aroma, and it made Lon suddenly crave a cigarette for the first time in days.

He was still unwell, but definitely getting better.

How could he not? He was back in Australia. Ben was sitting right beside him, not close enough for Lon's liking, but alive and well and that's all that mattered.

Sophie was still curled up in Rob's arms, her sleep undisturbed even as her dad poked the fire with a stick, making the flames crackle and claw at the night sky,

"But crikey, the guy knew his onions—and I mean it in the most literal way possible!"

The three drovers and the aboriginal man were talking about Darwin, laughing as they reminisced, light-hearted now that they left its scorched grounds far behind, while Lon sat quietly, lost in thoughts, relieved that they'd let him be.

He still had to tell Benjamin the truth about how he'd gotten down under, and he was still waiting to see what Benjamin made of it all... well, of _them_ really.

Because yes, Ben held his hand on the way over, but he was keeping his distance now. For all Lon knew the Aussie might have moved on while he was away—for all he knew that Will guy was his new lover...

He cast a quick glance at the young, good-looking drover and his heart sank. Will was younger than Lon... better looking too if he was being completely honest with himself.

Did Benjamin wait for him in Darwin solely out of obligation? He was honorable that way, Lon couldn't rule it out.

"Are you okay?" Ben suddenly asked, making the other men fall silent.

"Yeah, I'm just... yeah." There was nothing that he could say in their presence, and his reply did nothing to banish the worry that filled Ben's eyes.

"Maybe you should get some rest. Take the jeep, it'll be warmer than a tent, and the temperatures are set to fall to minus three tonight."

"Um, okay."

...so... if he's in the jeep, who gets to share Ben's tent?

Lon wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

Suddenly depressed, he reminded himself that he traveled down under because he needed to make sure Ben was well, that anything else would be cherries on top... but his traitorous heart refused to listen.


	7. I'll be home for Christmas

**The Northern Territory, December 15th, 1942**

They arrived at the newly relocated Faraway Downs at noon, and the first thing Lon had noticed was that Eddie was nowhere to be seen, he didn't drive them from the seaport, he didn't open the gate for them when they arrived, and he wasn't rushing over to greet them with the rest of the staff. But Lon didn't ask... he didn't want to hear it.

Their Jeep was surrounded by Lady Sarah Ashlee's employees to the point they couldn't even open the doors, and the sudden, loud commotion made Lon shake his head in order to clear it. Closing his eyes and taking deep, cleansing breaths, he had to remind himself that he was no longer in Europe.

It helped.

When he opened his eyes Benjamin was giving him a concerned look in the rearview mirror. Him seating in the front seat after spending the night apart did nothing to Lon's low mood, and arriving at Faraway Downs didn't have the uplifting effect that he was hoping for.

If he and Ben were nothing but friends now...

...a knock on the window made him look up, heart booming—but it wasn't Eddie, just Daisy, the lady's housekeeper. She waved at him enthusiastically and forcing a smile Lon waved back.

"Let's" Rob carefully opened the door.

As soon as they got out of the car an aboriginal girl ran towards them with open arms, "Will!"

She jumped into his arms and the young drover hugged her tightly and spun her around, both looking giddy with joy.

They embraced in a way that made it clear Will wasn't interested in Ben... however, not far from them, Lady Sarah Ashley—as beautiful and elegant as Lon remembered, was hugging Benjamin Walters Graham just as tightly, and Lon's heart sank.

...so not Will... Sarah. Just like he suspected all along.

"This way, Milwaukee." Rob winked and gave his arm a tug, "Daisy is going to show us to our rooms."

***** *** *****

Lon couldn't remember the last time that he got to enjoy a hot shower, and spent more time in the bathroom than he cared to admit. Then, changing into the civilian clothes that daisy had kindly brought him, he stepped outside. He needed to find Ben.

He probably didn't want to hear it—but it was time to face the music and catch up on everything that took place since he left Oz.

All of the lodgings in the new homestead were facing each other, built around a well-attended garden. Two kids were playing on the lawn, and when Lon closed the door behind him they looked up in tandem,

"Lon!" Bendy legs called, and they both started running towards him,

"Mista Lon!" Nullah hugged his waist and Lon wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders, "I knew you were coming back, I told missus boss that you're on your way!"

"Oh yeah?" Lon ruffled his hair fondly, smiling down at the aboriginal child, "And what did she say?"

"She said to call her mummy!"

And they were running off again, laughing as they did.

Lon stood outside his room for another short moment, lost in thoughts. The lady didn't even know his name, he remembered as much. What did she make of him suddenly appearing in her new homestead?

He left the living quarters, he needed to talk to Ben.

The new homestead was built on the top of a hill overlooking Crains, and further back the ocean. The views on Lon's way were breathtaking, and the early afternoon was pleasantly warm with only a couple of clouds in the distance. The familiar and almost beloved smell of manure suggested that the Lady was still a cattle owner, although the cattle station was not visible from the homestead.

The dry warm breeze also carried the scent of citrus blossom, and more importantly—the sound of Ben's voice coming from somewhere in the backyard.

Lon followed it.

***** *** *****

"And that's all of it. It'll be a huge relief to leave the cattle station in your capable hands once more, I don't want to see another shorthorn for as long as I live!" Sarah laughed as she brought them to a stop, concluding their tour of the new Faraway Downs.

"It's a beaute. You've done an amazing job here." Benjamin said, meaning it. He was proud of how far she'd come since he first met her; an out-of-touch trophy wife who hadn't worked a single day in her life.

"That's very kind of you to say. Thank you. For everything."

"Don't thank me, this is all you darling."

"That may be, but I'd be long out of business it wasn't for you. So..." She rested a gloved hand on his shoulder and looked up at him with bright, blue eyes, "congratulations on finding your friend."

Benjamin's heart sank. Not this, not again. He thought that they moved past it.

"Sarah." He pressed his two bigger hands to her slender one against his shoulder. He could see pain flickering in her eyes just from the way he said her name, but he needed to be clear. Well, clearer as it turned out.

"Lon's not my friend."

"Well, I mean surely—"

"—Hey." he squeezed her hand, "He's my partner."

A dock of tears covered her eyes. She grinned, but her lips were pressed together and she was shaking her head 'no' in tiny little movements,

"I know that you're close,"

"—I love him. Fell for him at first sight, as a matter of fact."

Sarah froze... then nodded, a single tear gliding down her cheek, "Well. Guess you were always too good to be true. Eddie saw right through the two of you," she scoffed, "I told him that he was crazy."

"That he was." Benjamin said, tears now misting his eyes as well, "...Sarah? Do you need us to leave? Be honest darling, it's—"

"—don't you ever say that! My-- my cattle!"

"You'll have Rob and Will to drive it."

"My-- no... Stay. Stay for as long as you want. Please."

"If you want me to stay because of, well," he gestured at the space between them, but before he could go on she said,

"No. No, that's not the reason why. I lost my land, I lost my husband, I lost Eddie... you and Nullah are the only family I have left. I can't lose you. I need you... Nullah needs you."

"If it'll hurt you to see me with him,"

"It won't! ...I mean, it probably will. For a while... until it won't. And hey, at least it's not another woman!" she scoffed through her tears, "And really, I am happy for you. I want you to be happy, and it looks like he's making you happy. You look good together."

"Thank you." Benjamin squeezed her hand and planted a kiss on her forehead, relieved, at least until a movement caught his eye and they both turned their heads,

"I'm..." Lon said, eyes wide and cheeks burning, "I'm sorry."

He turned his back on them and left the way he came, and Benjamin sighed and released Sarah's hands.

"Just explain. I'm sure he'll understand." she promised, and nodding his thanks Benjamin went searching for Lon.

***** *** *****

He started at the entrance gate, just in case Lon decided to do something hasty.

He was worried about the younger man, having no doubt in mind that Rob's shell-shocked diagnosis was spot-on.

"Uncle Benjamin!"

Speaking of the devil.

Sophie waved at him. She was 'helping' her dad offload their belongings out of the Jeeps' trunk by carrying the toys that Rob handed her.

"Hello sweetheart," Benjamin said, eyes scanning the gates, pleased to see that they were chained and locked.

"I thought about it and you know what you should do?"

Benjamin crouched so that he could look her in the eye, "Me? No. Tell me!"

"You should make a pinky promise!"

"Okay, darling. What do you want me to promise?"

"Not to me silly!" Sophie laughed, "to the American."

"Oh?" Benjamin's brow creased,

"Yes!" The seven-year-old glowed, then recited; _"when you reconcile after a fight—make a pinky promise to set things right!"_

"Is that so?" Benjamin arched his eyebrows in fake amazement, then rose to his feet to shot her dad a quick, dark glare.

Rob only shrugged and smiled, as if saying _I'm not playing this game anymore mate!_

"Yes!" Sophie looked up at him, "And then you'll stay best friends _forever!"_

"Well." Benjamin blinked, "That does sound um, ...like a very good idea." he mumbled, surprised that a life-tip from a seven-year-old had managed to tug at his heartstrings.

God. He needed to speak to Lon.

Rob gave him a small, lopsided smile, as if saying _damn right,_ and nodding his goodbye, Benjamin made his way to the homestead.

***** *** ******

"Hey,"

Lon looked up at him from his spot on the edge of the bed,

"I'm not angry," he wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, "just, um... just sad, I guess. But you're free to see whoever you want! ...I mean, obviously. I'm just happy that you're alive and well, that's more than enough. And you know... I said four months and it's been what? A whole year? So... so I understand."

"Are you done?" Ben asked.

Lon looked up—the arrogant son of a gun was actually smirking down at him!

"What's funny?!" He forgot how infuriating the drover could be, how he used to drive him up the walls by being such a stubborn, tall, brave, perfect, arrogant, gorgeous son of a bitch.

"The look on your face. It's like watching a feature-length film from begging to end."

"Fuck you!"

Benjamin went very still, and very serious, "Sure." he nodded in mock, intense earnestness, kicking off his boots and pretending to undress, starting by removing his worn-out bandana,

"This isn't funn—"

Lon blinked. His old U.S dog tags were resting against Ben's chest—they were tucked under his bandana where Ben hid them on the day Lon left Oz.

"I..." Heart slamming, Lon rose to his feet and took a step forward, "...I've lost your hat," his fingers curled around the dog tags' silver beaded chain on their own accord.

"Yeah, Rob said."

"He did? Then why... why the stables? Why the cell?"

"Um, yeah..." Benjamin sighed, face darkening, "...about that."

He gulped, avoiding his gaze.

Lon waited.

"When we, er... when we... um... Shit, Lon." Benjamin finally met his eyes, showing him the pain that flickered in the hazel depths, "The big drove was a disaster. We arrived at Darwin minutes before the attack began. We lost the cattle, all of them. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still see it, hear them, it's um... Anyway. Baron Flynn risked everything he had to seize our livestock—and so he lost everything. He was overthrown by the other cattle owners," Ben stopped, looking pained and dropping his gaze to the floor. Lon gave the dog tags a small encouraging tug,  
"He still owed them money, so they took away the Baron's stock and farm as payment, and he blamed us for his fall from grace. God. He hates us. So much so, that he used what little money he had left to gather mercenaries and seek revenge. Lon..."

Ben met and held his gaze, and Lon didn't like what he saw there.

"They've killed Eddie. Shot him dead while he was filling his waterskin not far from the camp, so," Ben wiped a tear off his cheek, then took hold of Lon's shoulders, "If the baron would have known about you, if a rumor would have spread about how I'm searching for a relative or a friend... then he would have made sure to find you first... hurt you just to get back at me. So I had to lie, see?" Ben squeezed his shoulders, "I had to give my men a reason to search for you without giving the baron a reason to kill you."

Tears were running freely down both their faces now, and Ben had to draw a shaky breath before he could say,

"And then we finally found you, and you looked so happy to see me... you were about to betray the truth, I didn't know how else to stop you..." Ben gently traced the faded bruise on Lon's cheek, "It made me sick. Like physically sick, afterward, but I had to Lon... and I'm so sorry for--"

That was as far as he got before Lon used his hold on the dog tags to yank him closer.

Their mouths crushing together was just as jarring as Lon remembered—teeth knocking, and Ben's tongue pressing into his mouth, hot and wet. Lon sucked on it fervently, desperately, just like he did a year ago on their first time.

He moaned against Ben's lips; he'd forgotten how soft they were—damn pillowy against his own.

He was talking rubbish earlier—Ben being alive wasn't enough, not even close. Lon would die without him, was willing to live the rest of his life in exile for him--had risked his life multiple times just to find him, and if he couldn't have him... well he'd probably die anyway, out of broken heart or depression, but he just knew would—he could feel it in his bones back when they were fourteen thousand kilometers apart.

A bell rang outside, and Ben pulled back, a familiar, teasing twinkle in his eyes,

"Dinner?" he asked with an annoyingly straight face,

"Bed." Lon was too worked up to even roll his eyes at him.

***** *** *****

It took some time before they have actually gotten into bed; Lon couldn't stop touching the older man, getting reacquainted with his body as if he was trying to memorize it. He ran his hands all over Ben; across his chest, over his broad shoulders, down his back and arms... then he traced the imaginary trails with his lips.

"You're killing me," Ben whispered, "Come here," he nudged him towards the bed, pulled the covers up to their waists, then proceeded to kiss him, hot and wet. Eventually, Lon rolled onto his back and Benjamin climbed on top of him.

“Oh my god,” Lon said when Ben was still just using his fingers, "Ben, I'm ready. Just... jus—" he tried to buck his hips when Ben stroked him in the spot where it felt too good to talk, but the drover had him pinned against the mattress,

"You don't feel ready darling. Just relax yeah? Let me get you off."

"No!" Lon begged, already painfully close, “Please, god... Just, I need you in me, fuck, I need it—”

He felt like a part of him still hadn't landed down under, and was dangerously stuck in the horrors of Europe. Like he needed for Ben to catch him and pin him in place, and only then he’d finally be home.

"I can't darling, it'll hurt. It's okay to need some time after what you've been through,"

"—No, no," Lon insisted, voice pinched because he was edging, fighting off the ripples of pleasure that threatened to lick higher up his spine, "you won't hurt me, I promise."

Ben chuckled quietly, and the sound of his voice combined with his sleek, thick fingers inside of him almost made Lon come; he bit his bottom lip until it hurt, and seeing his efforts Ben increased the pressure, touching him just right and making Lon's world narrow down to nothing but intense pleasure,

"—Mph!"

"Stop fighting it Lon, give your body what it needs."

"I n-need... you... please Ben... it'll be okay, I... I promise..." Lon sent a shaky hand to grasp Ben's wrist, stopping the slow in-and-out slide of his fingers, "Please?" he held his gaze, begging with his blue eyes.

"I... yeah, okay." Ben said, and it was one of the rare moments in which the Aussie sounded hesitant about anything, "But I'm going to make you come first. It'll make it more intense, but less painful when you take me in."

"Yeah. Okay." Lon let his head drop and released Ben's hand. Ben was right about him needing this; his entire body felt like it was on fire; overstimulated and aching for release. It was a battle he was happy to lose.

The mattress dipped beside him and he opened his eyes in time to see Ben moving in for a kiss. He accepts it hungrily, starving for him, but forgot how to breathe when Ben wrapped fingers around his cock, making it twitch in his grip.

He was so close already... it wasn't long before he was arching his back and spilling over Ben's hand, but it did nothing to soothe his desperate need for the gorgeous Australian man. Stars were still flashing behind his closed eyelids when he blindly reached for Ben's shoulders and nudged him towards where he wanted him.

"Still sure about this?" Ben challenged as he positioned himself between Lon's spread out legs.

"Ben,"

"Hm?"

Lon opened his blue eyes and met Ben's hazel ones squarely,"Fuck me."

"Oh?" Ben raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching, "Is this the kind of language that they teach in private schools nowadays?" but he looked hungry now, hot for Lon in a way that made the jibe go over his head. He watched, hypnotized, as Ben sat back on his heels, built chest heaving while he slicked himself up.

Wanting to feel the intensity of it all, he let his eyelids drop and braced himself for the always uncomfortable first couple of thrusts.

"You will have to tell me if you need me to stop," Ben warned as he lined himself with Lon, easing him into position.

"I won't need you to stop,"

He could feel Ben glaring at him behind his closed lids. Ben pressed himself against where Lon needed him, and rubbed taunting circles instead of pushing in,

"Yeah okay," He opened his eyes and met the predictable glare, "I'll tell you- -Hmph,"

It had won him the first slow forward thrust and his head fell back, eyes pitching shut because Ben was also right about it being too soon; his body resisted in spite of how melted and mindless he still felt... but it didn't hurt at least, just like Ben promised.

"...okay?"

 _"more,"_ Lon breathed. It was working already; making him feel more grounded, like he belonged somewhere... to someone... and less like he was floating between the present and the past.

Ben pulled him closer. He flexed his legs up until his knees almost touched his shoulders, then leaned in to kiss him deeply, teasing his mouth open with his tongue... at the same time he pushed on in, and Lon's breath snagged.

The drover broke the kiss and the younger man desperately tried to follow his lips,

 _"Stay—"_ Lon put his shaky arms around Ben's neck and held him in place, attempting to fuck himself onto him in spite of the way he froze. It didn't work; the Aussie was still gripping Lon's waist in his big hands, keeping him still.

"Easy darling... I'm not going anywhere... I'm right here..." Ben kissed the tip of his nose, the dip of his chin, the corners of his lips... Lon parted them and they were kissing again, but it wasn't enough... he didn't care how intense it felt, he needed him bad and he needed him now... he sobbed and tugged, wordlessly begging and writhing in his arms, until Ben finally gave in and gave him what he so desperately needed.

Lon arched into the thrusts, moaning for them as soon as Ben got going. He was half-hard and didn't care if he'd come—just as long as Benjamin would, so deep and hard inside of him that he'd feel it for days.

But Ben had other plans for him... he strengthened his hold on him and angled his pelvic until Lon fell silent because Ben was touching him there with every slow, measured thrust, making him stupid with need.

 _"...Ben..."_ He clawed at Benjamin's shoulders, open-mouthed, eyes squeezed shut. The older man's dick felt even better now that Lon was open just enough to let him move with ease, remade for this, _"...god... yeah..."_

"Yeah? Feels good Oklahoma?" Ben teased, smiling down at him, and oh god, _Oklahoma..._ Lon kissed him, it was either that or bursting into tears... Ben gently bit on his lower lip, the pain sobering him but also _"—Nnh—"_ Lon came before he was ready, pelvic jerking up and hips pressing hard against Ben, who was covering his face with kisses while Lon panted through it.

"Feeling better?" Ben teased when Lon opened his eyes, dazed.

"Don't stop."

"Really? You're insatiable today," Benjamin chuckled, then, more seriously, "are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Lon clenched hard, needing to see Ben's eyes pinch shut, needing to hear his breath snag, "I just need to feel you, be reminded that this is real, not limbo."

"Jesus Lon. Of course it is." Benjamin looked worried, but at least he was moving again, and Lon could close his eyes and just feel, pleased that it felt even more intense now that he was sated. In a way, he enjoyed it even more, like he could feel more of Ben now that orgasmic pleasure wasn't clouding his mind.

"Okay?" Ben asked,

"Perfect," Lon replied, hoping to be sore tomorrow, hating even the sleek lubrication that's been keeping them apart, but knowing Benjamin wouldn't skip easing him into it even if he begged him to.

"Tell me if it gets too much,"

"Harder," Lon ignored him, wanting it to hurt a little—to offer proof that this was indeed the present, and make the parts of his brain that were still stuck in Europe accept that this was real.

_"...yeah... just like that..."_

"I'm coming," Ben breathed, and Lon opened his eyes.

The Aussie was gorgeous when he came, his face a mixture of pleasure bordering pain, but tears were suddenly blurring Lon's vision.

He waited for Ben to roll off so that he could move into his arms.

Ben hugged him, eyes still closed, breath still ragged.

Lon ran his fingers across his old dog tags, tracing his name and identification number, then pressed his palm above Benjamin's rapidly beating heart, and waited for the Aussie to come to.

"I love you." He said as soon as Ben's breathing was somewhat back to normal.

"I love you too, Oklahoma," Ben replied drowsily; he kept his eyes closed but hugged Lon tightly to let him know that he meant it.

Lon smiled through his tears; he got to say the words.

His journey was complete.

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

***** *** *****

**December 25th, 1941.**

Just like last year, it didn’t stop raining for days.

Lon could hear people bustling outside, making their way to the main dining room, where Christmas dinner was held because of the downpour, and just like last year, he was hesitant about joining the others for the homestead's Christmas lunch.

"Without Eddie..." He said, hoping Ben would understand.

Ben nodded, thoughtful, and Lon could sense that there was a 'but' coming,

"Do you think that Eddie would want you to stay in the room all by yourself?"

Lon smiled, knowing exactly what the old farmer would have said. Seemed like Eddie's goal in life, since he met Lon that is, was to get him out of his shell and back into the world where he could socialize... Did Lon ever stop to consider the effect that the breakup with Allie had on his life?

He was a pretty upbeat, confident guy up until then... although he was feeling more like himself with every passing day since he found Ben.

"No..." Lon agreed, "Ho wouldn't let me miss it for the world. He's the one who sent Thomas to fetch me last year—oh, um..." Lon could feel his face darkening, it was silly, but he couldn't deny it's been on his mind, "...did the two of you...?" he made an awkward hand gesture, unable to even say the words.

"Oklahoma."

"He just told me that, um,"

 _"Lon."_ Benjamin cut him off, "He's not here, is he? You are."

Lon wasn't surprised to learn that the easy-going Aussie didn't appreciate drama, but it was stronger than him, he didn't trust Thomas to tell him the truth,

"I just... you didn't sleep with him, right?"

Lon had to hear it from Ben, otherwise he'd always wonder... He looked him in the eye, showing him his desperate, burning need, and Ben sighed,

"Of course I didn't—you had me at 'hello'. Well, at _'Excuse me!'_ really," the drover chuckled, and pulled Lon into his arms, pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Come on. Let's." he led him out of their room and into the rainy garden.

"You know," Lon said right before they entered the hall, "I wanted Eddie to know. I mean, about us... and that I'm coming back to Oz."

Ben chuckled, "Old man Eddie Tallara knew about us long before we did. It was his idea to place scouts in the wharf—and lo and behold, that's exactly where we found you."

Lon came to a stop. He could feel himself paling. His mouth ran dry. Ben turned to look at him questioningly,

"I... I went to the wharf because he told me to... I mean, I dreamt that he did..."

He was expecting Ben to smile and dismiss it, but his eyes were wet as he nodded.

"He told me you're coming. Said you'd bring the wet with you... and you did."

Lon bit his lips. Ben took his hand. People were still walking past them but no one seemed to care.

"Ah. Lon. Ben. Glad to see you're both here."

"Um, happy to be here! Thanks for having me!" Lon wasn't blushing! Not much anyway...

"It's my pleasure. I'll see you inside." Lady Sarah Ashley said as Nullah pulled on her hand impatiently. He gave Lon a wink before vanishing into the hall.

Ben raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

 _"The lady remembered my name,"_ Lon mumbled, happy to be interrupted by Daisy and Bendy Legs, who seemed just as eager as Nullah to get in.

"Are you coming boys?" she asked, not seeming to care about them holding hands either.

"We won't be a minute," Ben replied, then to Lon,

"Come on. Let's join the others like Eddie would have wanted us to."

But Lon wasn't ready to go in just yet. There was one thing that he promised himself he'd do before the holiday and get it off his chest already,

"Ben, wait... There's something you should know... I, um," Lon ducked his head. Took a deep steadying breath,

"I left without leave." He forced the words out, "I mean the service, I kind of ran away..." he looked up nervously.

Ben nodded and waited for him to go on, "...yeah. And?"

"And...? this is it. I'm a renegade."

"Yeah, I know." Ben still looked confused.

"But... I didn't tell anyone?"

Ben laughed, "I don't think you need to tell anyone that you left the war in Europe without a leave. Hey... you did the right thing darling. You already served your country, and paid a price for it too."

"Yeah... but... I can never go back home. You're stuck with me now."

"Good," Ben said, and using his hold on Lon's hand, pulled him close, then led him into the hall where the others were waiting for them.

"Happy holiday darling." he bent to whisper in his ear as they entered the decorated hall, with its spangled Christmas lights and massive Christmas tree.

"Happy holiday Ben."

The end.


End file.
